Tainted Conviction
by Sita Seraph
Summary: Duo has never been afraid of Death. But once he's tasted it, he finds that he doesn't enjoy it very much. So he is given a choice. Die and rot between heaven and hell. Or live and face the punishments of a non-believer. Yaoi.
1. Prologue

Warnings: None at the moment

Couple: Hmm…I wonder…*falls over*

Note: You know how hard it was to come up with a good title? *falls over….again* I hope you enjoy my first GW story, I've had this in my head for awhile now.  I don't think Duo is too OOC…please correct me anywhere okay? Btw, excuse any typos.  I have fake nails on.  *laughs*

Duo stared straight ahead as the world past by him in one large blur.  He was neatly going over a 100 miles per hour in an old model motorcycle, the red fresh paint billowing around the ex-pilot's face.  An hour ago he had just finished his long timework on his precious motorcycle and eagerly, he had taken it out on a test ride.

It ran beautifully.

With a mad laugh, Duo sped up even faster, the cold wing biting his unprotected face.  His braid whipped madly behind him, tearing back at his head as they moved at impossible speeds.  Curves and turns were calculated perfectly but then again, if they weren't, the slightly mistake could have sent the happy-go-lucky pilot over the road's edge where there was certain doom at the bottom of the 50 foot cliff.

But not like that stopped him.

It had been a couple of years after the last war and since then, peace was…constant.  Even the Preventors found themselves wondering if they were needed anymore when no longer any fires grew.  Hell, they were lucky to get a spark now a day.  So then, all of the five ex-Gundam pilots had to keep themselves busy.  Work was pointless since, well; the Preventors paid their expenses.  Hey, saving the world _does_ have some good points, doesn't it?  They could have also chosen to go to school but unfortunately, after saving the world then resulting to homework wasn't exactly a thrilling idea.

So they went in search of other things.  Building, learning odd things, attending every concert they could get their mitts on…Okay, that was Duo's ideal but when the Preventors paid for rock on, front row tickets, who can really resist?  

The Gundam pilots also have been 'living' together.  Since they all had hard times and went through it together, they all felt some connection between each other.  So they went to work together with the Preventors, Duo taking a side job in the dump.  It was there he would find misc. crap, one being his new motorcycle.  At least while going knee deep in disposed metal material kept him occupied for awhile, he was also learning how to make really cool objects with all the functional things that were thrown away.  He had once built an almost fully optional laptop for Heero's made up birthday (since they don't the day of their birth, Quatre made up one according to their personalities.).  The bad thing was it didn't have a real good screen and the plug in didn't seem to give the blasted computer any energy.  So it had become one of those 'look but don't touch' accessories in Heero's room.  It was a puzzle to Duo why the stiff pilot didn't throw it away, but then again, why does Heero do some of the things that he does?

 Duo's eyes narrowed, pulling back his concentration and stuffing away his autopilot as sharp curves and narrow street ways came up ahead.  Even at the pace he was going, he didn't dare slow down on the turns that would definitely kill him.  But then again, he WAS a Gundam pilot.  He had gotten soft over the years of absence of war and the exotic pilot wanted to see if still had the same stamina as he use to. You never know; war might rise once again….

Yeah right.

Duo listened to the roar of his engine and the noise he made as he spun around corners, whizzing around like he was back into his forever-lost mobile suit.  Years of training with the bloody thing were hard to forget after all.

As Duo zoomed pass the last curve, he gave a triumphant yell and a maniac grin, adrenalin bumping in his blood. As he sped quickly down the road, he didn't notice the black form in the corner of his eye before it was too late…

Duo made a gasping sound as a deer bounded right in front him.  Going to fast to stop and thinking too fast to really do much, Duo did what his instincts told him: VEER TO THE SIDE!!!!! As Duo did just that, the pilot realized his mistake almost immediately.  Stupid baka.  Do you turn towards the enemy line when you dodge bullets? Nooo…you turn the other way.  Damn my lack of training…

Duo screamed in terror as he drove right over the 50-foot cliff.


	2. Do You Believe?

Warning: None, yet again.

Rating: PG-13 at the moment.

Summary: Upon his own death, Duo is thrown into God's arms.  But to live again, he must return to Earth and face the circumstances of not believing in the creator of life…

Note: Ah, sorry about the cliffhangers everyone!  They seem to always leak from my writing and its been a couple months since I haven't written one!  You just better hope then that the inspiration keeps coming!  Man, I hate short chapters…

Of all the ways to go, you had to die because of a deer…Duo thought.  As he had flown through the air and flied down to his most certain doom, Duo couldn't help but think that…and how much he at least wanted to get his revenge on Wufei for using all the hot water in the shower.  Duo closed his eyes and waited for the blow when he would eat dirt.  It was all over in a matter of seconds, all in unbelievable pain.  But then the pain had eased away…then disappeared completely.  It was then that Duo knew he was officially dead.  Lets say it was only slightly upsetting…and sickening.

Duo's eyes remained close, or more like he couldn't open them, as he felt himself…hover.  Like suspending in air, he couldn't feel anything supporting his back.  So laying amidst, wherever he was, Duo waited for death to take him and the lights in the house to finally go out.  But, being slightly impatient as it was, Duo couldn't stand the nagging feeling of being watched.  The piercing eyes were burning a hole between his eyes, kind of like Heero's stares.  That guy had the meanest eyes ever…

Duo decided maybe he hadn't died after all.  Maybe he was in the hospital and they pumped him with so much drugs that he felt like he was dead.  But the possibility of surviving his crash was highly unlikely…But then again, his detonation switch was suppose to go off and it didn't, so how about that for unlikely?  Perhaps this was death.  Just sitting around…doing absolutely nothing…at all…forever…

Ah maaaaaaan…Duo groaned inwardly.  I can't do this! Somebody, get me out of here!  I don't want to die!

" I thought you weren't afraid of death…"

Duo immediately stilled his fight to control his floating and stiff body, which refused to corporate. So there was someone watching him!  God damn, what is this place?

" Do you believe in God, Duo?"

Duo tried to move his mouth to answer the man in the room but his mouth seemed to be glue shut.  Hell, he wasn't even able to call forth the mental power to make his tongue move so it was simply impossible.  The creepy feeling of being watched every moment crept up his spine.  If there was a God, how could he do something like this to me? Duo raged.

" If?"

Duo stilled once again, listening to the haughty breath of death right in his ear.

" So you don't, Duo Maxwell.  What do you believe in?"

What do I believe in? Duo thought.  Death.  I believe in the God of Death…I've never seen miracles…but a lot of death…

" Death, hm?"

Holy shit! Duo screamed.  This guy can read my thoughts!!

" Yes, Duo.  I can.  And you don't believe in God?"

No…

" Why?"

What has he ever done for me?

" Give you life."

And one hell of a shitty life, might I add.  Where am I?

" In the place between life and death, Duo."

Why am I here?

" You died."

Obviously.  But why am I between the two places?  Can't you decide to send me to hell or heaven?

" You can say that.  Duo Maxwell, spirited pilot of Gundam Deathscythe.  Killer of thousands but savior of millions.  What can we do with you?"

You don't have the exact number of my kills?  Goddamn, you'd think you would keep a record of that…

Annoyed.  " Duo Maxwell, dry humored and takes the name of God in vain…"

Oh yeah…Sorry, I forgot I was in your holiness's presence.  Look, if you have no place for me, just send me to hell so I can chill out with Trieze.

" And let you continue believing that God's presence is fake?"

Well, I'm a firm believer now.

Silence.

Hello? Duo thought, getting worried.  He's just going to leave me here!?  This is bull!

" Do you want to live again, Duo?"

Duo's train of thought immediately stopped.  I can live again?

" Yes."

What's the catch?

" You say you don't believe in God.  Even now.  How much will it take for you to believe in him?"

Oh, until I see him with my own eyes.  You gonna hook us up so we can share life stories over a cup of tea?

" Not exactly.  Good bye Duo."

Hey wait!  What's going to happen to me?

" You are returning to your normal body with eyes unclouded, mind unshielded, and body of a unholy virgin."

What?

" You will remain this way…until you believe.  And then share it with the world."

WHAT!?

But then again, Duo received no response and deep inside, he knew he wasn't going to receive another answer.


	3. Taste of Death

Title: Tainted Conviction – Chapter Two

Author: Sita Seraph

Genre: Angst, Religious relatings

Pairing: 1x2, 3x4 eventually.

Rated: R

Warning: Gruesome treatment, stigmata, sixth sense, and a whole lot of shit.

Note: Longer chapter!  Enjoy!  I'm having so much fun writing this! *evil gleam*

Duo slowly opened his eyes, the darkness ceasing away to show him the light blue sky of night.  Specks of white littered the dark blue, twinkling every so often.  Duo watched curiously as some stars moved around quickly, indicating a satellite on the rise.  The braided boy smiled as the satellite moved out his viewing range and the stars grew still once again.

He was alive.

Slowly, Duo raised his head and looked down at himself.  He gave a low chuckle as he found himself back on the road, completely unharmed and unscathed.  But unfortunately, he was motor less.

"Go figure," Duo grunted as he slowly rose himself into sitting position.  It was going to take him hours to get back to the estate.  Duo slowly grinned though.  At least he was alive and well to make the trip.

"Better get these legs movin'," Duo said to himself and slowly got up.  Looking around to see which way he should go, since he never really did pay attention to the scenery ever, Duo slowly shrugged and started jogging.  This would give him plenty of time to think up a good enough excuse of what happened to his beautiful red motorcycle.

*****

Duo slowly unlocked the front door with his key and peeked inside cautiously. He was thankful that it was late at night for even after the long run, he still hadn't thought up a really excellent excuse for his missing bike.  After successfully looking over the empty and dark living room, Duo sneaked in and closed the door gently behind him.  After locking it back up, for Wufei's paranoid state, Duo crept across the wooden floor.  Behind him wafted his sweat, as he had jogged all the way back to the estate.  It felt good at the time to restart stiff muscles, and some he didn't even know he had, but now he stank worse then a pig.

Time for a serious shower, Duo thought with a smile, thinking about the wonderful warm water on his achy muscles.  Showers were good.  Showers were great.  Duo liked showers.

Moving across the living room, while dodging matching chairs, a love seat, and a couch, Duo silently walked up the stairs that rose to the second floor behind the long couch.  Taking it two at a time on the carpeted staircase, Duo successfully dodged any creaks and cracks that he knew existed at certain parts of each stair.  Maybe when he had time, he would fix all those annoying groans in the stairs.

But right now: Shower.  Walking up on the second floor, Duo slowly opened a cabinet door and took out a white fluffy towel.  Smells of holy cleanliness wafted into Duo's nose and the boy smiled, thinking of Quatre and how he just lived to clean…most of the time.  Taking the towel and leaving the cabinet door open, Duo walked to the bathroom, thinking blissfully about warm water.  

Duo closed the door behind him and immediately started stripping, humming.  Throwing his clothes and towel to the side, Duo reached over and started the water to the shower.  While waiting for the water to get warm, Duo turned to face his reflection.

"God, I look like shit," Duo chuckled.  His hair was a frizzy mess from the run and the crazy motor ride, escaping from the ties that bound themselves in the braid.  Grinning at himself, Duo start to unwound his messy hair, watching the dirty specks on his cheeks that were so grounded into his skin, they looked like bruises.  With his hair free, Duo leapt into the shower eagerly and turned the pouring water onto the shower faucet.  Immediately he was sprayed with warm, hot water, coursing over his body like waves.

It was kind of funny that even after such a close call to death, that he barely even thought about it.  Hey, he was alive, who cared about anything else?  But still, he wasn't trying to get the memory out of his head nor was he eager to think about.  He died and then he came back.  That is an everyday thing, right?  Facing death was normal for him; he had accepted that fact that death was coming after him, ever since he had taken the job of piloting Deathscythe.   That was the reason why he had become the God of Death, Shinigami.  If he was going to die, he might as well be it at the same time.

But…even during the war…he had fooled himself into thinking that he WAS the God of Death and that he would never die, not without his consent.  But tonight's proceeding proved false, as he cannot give the willing choice to die right then and there.  There was no detonation switch in real life; one mistake could have cost him his life…and it did.  He always thought that if he wanted to die then he would do it, freely.  But it had seemed that someone else had controlled his hands and steered him over that high cliff, throwing him to his doom.  He had no choice to die; the real God of Death did.

Duo stopped the scrubbing of his sweaty body and went completely still, biting his bottom lip.  He suddenly felt very, very sick.  Spinning around, Duo fell to his knees as they gave out beneath him and started throwing up over the drain.  Water poured over him like rivers, drowning out his hearing and eyesight.  He just kept puking everything up, continuously.  Even when he knew that his stomach had to be empty, he just kept going.  He couldn't control his body…

Faintly, Duo tasted blood in his mouth.

*****

Heero opened his eyes in the middle of the night, staring at the dark ceiling above him.  Lifting his head, the monotone pilot listened to running water, coming from the bathroom across the hall from him.  Duo must be home, he thought, pushing himself up into sitting position and leaning back on his hands.  Heero had been waiting for the pilot to get home and it was odd; he didn't wake up to the roar of the engine of Duo's motorcycle.  

"Hmm," Heero said, listening as the running water switched to the sound of water beating against the walls – he's taking a shower.

"Baka," Heero said aloud.  "You didn't wear a helmet did you?"

With a huff, Heero kicked back the blankets tangling themselves around his legs and looked at his nightstand where red glaring numbers shone through the dark.  3:00.  Why was the baka out so late when he left at 11?  Narrowing his eyes, Heero turned back his blank gaze to his closed door.

And that's when he heard the sound of throwing up.

Immediately, Heero reacted, throwing himself up from his single bed and stealthly made his way to the door. Throwing it open, Heero walked to the closed bathroom door.  Light from inside seeped along the ground where it escaped under the door, the only light in the silent and dark house.  Standing outside the door, Heero pondered about Duo's condition.  He had never seen the baka sick before…and he didn't know what to do with a sick person either.  He had never been sick in his life.   Maybe I should get Quatre for this…he thought, pausing his hand that lifted to the knob.  But as Duo inside kept hacking up whatever that was in his stomach, Heero's hand closed around the knob.  Duo was more than sick; he couldn't have ate that much while he was out.  Turning the knob, Heero pushed open the door.  Duo sounded like he needed medical attention.

As the door moved aside for Heero to see, the stoic pilot paused and his eyes grew wide in complete shock.  On his knees was Duo in the bathtub, completely naked and the water pouring over him relentlessly.  Locks of curling brown hair cascaded over his back, hiding the pale flesh from Heero's watchful gaze.  Spiky bangs hid Duo's violet eyes completely.

But all of this didn't shock Heero at all.

It wasn't the hair, or the pale flesh that looked more dead then alive.

It wasn't the way Duo's body trembled as another round of puke pushed up into his throat.

Nor was it how beautiful Duo looked when he would pause to catch his breath before he began puking again.

It was the gallons of blood that kept erupting from the happy-go-lucky pilot's mouth.  Rivers of it broke through red lips and into the tub.  Some splattered across the wall from the force as it escaped.  Some soaked Duo's beautiful hair.  Some of it began to fill the tub…

Duo's head jerked up as the door hit the side of the wall and opened his mouth, wide violet eyes the only color left on his body.  But as he started to say something, blood escaped his throat and shot across the tub and against the lower cabinets under the sink.

Heero's eyes grew wider.  Duo kept throwing up more and more blood.

"QUATRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


	4. Red Rivers

Title: Tainted Conviction – Chapter Three

Author: Sita Seraph

Genre: Angst, Religious relatings

Pairing: 1x2, 3x4 eventually.

Rated: R

Warning: Gruesome treatment, stigmata, sixth sense, and a whole lot of shit.

          Note: Tell me if anyone is OOC and what they would have done.  I'm still not sure if I'm playing them right…Enjoy!  *ears are ringing from Charlotte's pan and pot beating* ^_~

**Chapter Three**

"QUATRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Quatre jerked up from his sleep, gripping the blankets and eyes wide as his name was screamed by one horrified voice.  Reacting immediately, covers were nearly thrown across the room.  Running out of his room, he came face to face with Trowa. They exchanged horrified looks before shooting down the hall towards the screaming voice.

"Quatre!!! QUATRE!!"

Wufei shot out of his room, dodging Trowa and Quatre and plowed down the hall with them.  The three pilots turned the corner quickly and ran to the open doorway where light was flooding out of the bathroom.  All three stopped at the doorway.  Quatre made a gasp and covered his mouth.  Trowa's eyes grew wide.  Wufei closed his eyes and turned his head away, making a choking sound.

All three were greeted with Duo spilling blood all over the floor and Heero holding him, as if it was going to stop if he squeezed hard enough.

"Quatre! Quatre! Quatre!" Heero kept repeating, eyes too wide to be real and looking so sick as if he had never witnessed blood before.  Duo heaved once again, completely naked upon the tiled floor of the bathroom and it splattered along the man who held him.  Heero threw himself against the lower cabinets, gripping his friend as he kept pouring more and more blood on him.  Duo made pathetic gasping sounds, tears streaking down his face, as he could no longer stop what kept coming up.  Over and over again, gallons of red liquid came up and out of his body.  How could one person contain so much blood?

"QUATRE!!!" Heero screamed and broke all three pilots sickened gaze.  Trowa immediately went forward and grabbed Duo from behind while Heero had his front.  Duo trembled within the pilots' arms, hacking up more and more with sickening sounds and sorrowful sobs.

"Stop him!!" Wufei screamed, getting paler by the minute.  He stepped back slowly as the blood spread across the tiled floor and towards the two frozen pilots at the door, slowly covering the floor completely.

"Do what!?" Quatre screamed, panic etched in his tone and face as tears were welling up in his eyes.  Completely helpless, Quatre watched in mute terror as his best friend coughed up more and more blood.

"Jesus Christ, do something!!!" Heero screamed slamming his head back against the cabinet.

Suddenly Duo grew very stiff in the two pilots arms and Trowa and Heero watched as Duo's head went straight to the ceiling.  He gave a soft gurgle, then a cough as a bit of blood erupted from his red lips and down his cheeks.  Then he collapsed completely against Trowa, head falling on his shoulder. Eyes closed, Duo was completely out, taking slow and long breaths.

Trowa, who was on his knees while he had held Duo, completely fell on his butt in shock.  The silent pilot just held the sleeping boy in his arms, staring down at the large puddle of blood beneath them.  His arms trembled as he held the still boy and he slowly closed his eyes, making a soft pathetic sound at the untrained experience they all had just gone through.

Heero lay limply against the cabinet, arms lying in the warm blood beneath him and stared hazily at the two forms before him.  As if not really there, the pilot stared with a distance gleam in his eye at Duo's sleeping face that dripped with red blood.

 "Duo…" Quatre murmured.

*****

"How…how could this happen?" Quatre whispered softly, gripping red hands in front of him.  All the Gundam pilots, nay Duo, were assembled outside the missing pilot's bedroom.  The window behind them let in the seeping light of dawn but none of the four pilots noticed the sun's awakening, as they were too busy with their own problems.

Quatre, with a huff, leaned tiredly against the wall.  The innocent pilot's shirt was covered in dry blood, as was his hands.  But nothing was compared to Heero, who wore nothing but boxers.  From head to toe, he was nearly covered in red 'paint' and he had yet to dry.  Pieces of his hair were darker then the rest as blood had gotten there also.  Trowa's pants were soaked here and there and even Wufei's white pants had gotten some blood on them for caring for their sleeping friend.

"There's no scientific fact for the cause…" Wufei said quietly, staring off and not meeting anybody's gaze.

"It could have been a drug," Trowa said just as quietly.  The whole experience had freaked them all out, not just because of the blood, but because they couldn't come with a single reason of how it could happen.

"Heero?  Do you know anything?" Quatre asked, hope clinging onto his voice.

"No," Heero answered, crushing the hope down and Quatre returned his eyes to the floor.  Drops of dry blood littered the carpet.

"Lets wait until Duo wakes up," Trowa said, trying to comfort his falling friend and slowly laid a hand on his shoulder.  "He should know something."

"And if he doesn't?" Wufei asked pointedly, eyes rising from the floor to look at Trowa for the first time in the night.

"Then…Then he doesn't," Trowa answered, almost simply.  "Lets go clean up."

*****

Duo stared blankly at the wooden wall before him, locks of brown cascading over his king sized bed.  Black and red covers covered him from the chest down as he laid down on his back, completely stiff and rigid.  All life seemed to have drained from his face, leaving him pale and his eyes almost hollow.  The light of humor was to a dim glow, completely lost in empty thoughts for all he could see was red.

From behind him, Duo could hear the click of his door opened and someone walking quietly inside, as if he was still asleep.  Duo didn't move though, as he found himself he couldn't if he wanted to.  Instead, he just listened to the person walk into the room and around to the end of the bed and stop.  Duo felt the burning eyes upon his skin, and Duo would have shifted uncomfortable at the powerful gaze.  Only one person could make him feel uncomfortable.

Heero.

Slowly, using all of his mental and physical power, Duo turned his head and met Heero's obsidian gaze.  Heero watched him blankly, hands on the end of the bed.  He was cleaned up now, wearing his traditional green tank top and some faded jeans.  They continued to stare at each other, neither speaking nor really feeling the need to.  Duo suddenly felt that under Heero's gaze, he was safe.  That he was always being watched, for who would dare to penetrate such a powerful stare.  Duo would have smiled if he had the strength.

Slowly, after another moment of staring at each other, Heero arched an eyebrow.  Duo watched it with most keen interest and secretly, Duo felt like beaming with glee.  Heero always did look so cute with that look on his face; something rare the happy pilot ever saw.

Duo suddenly felt like a little kid under a parent's eye.  It was comforting that he was being watched over.  No big bad monsters under the bed going to get him.  No bumps in the night going to scare him.  Again, the feel for smiling cursed through him but he couldn't crack the grin.  It would be too much work.

Heero watched Duo carefully from the moment he had walked into the room.  When the pilot had turned his head to him, he was almost saddened by the look of misery in Duo's eyes.  He had never, ever seen sorrow in his friend's eye and if it was depressing, it was more so.  Duo was never depressed; it just wasn't his character.  But Heero watched, amazed, as slowly the light was creeping back into the happy pilot's gaze.  He didn't know where the joy was coming from but there it was.  Was it his presence that was making the sorrow go away?  That could be it…Maybe Duo was in need of support.  

Heero kept his gaze upon the unmoving ex pilot's body as he watched it began to relax.  The boy didn't know it but his simple stare was just making him feel better, physically and mentally.  Heero kept back a smirk.  So the pilot was the one now in need of help instead of giving it, ne?  Heero paused his thoughts for a moment then slowly relaxed.  Duo needed him.  Needed to be watched and to be assured everything was okay now.  Heero could do that.  I can do that.

Duo slowly sighed after a moment, sleep beginning to weigh heavily on him.  Even if he didn't want to break the gaze Heero held, he couldn't seem to keep his eyes open anymore.  Slowly, his head tilted to the side and his eyelids closed before he knew it.  But even as he began to drift off, Heero continued to watch him and beat away the demons in his mind.


	5. Shredded World

Title: Tainted Conviction – Chapter Four

Author: Sita Seraph

Genre: Angst, Religious relatings

Pairing: 1x2, 3x4 eventually.

Rated: R

Warning: Gruesome treatment, stigmata, sixth sense, and a whole lot of shit.****

Duo slowly rose in half sleep, eyelids drooping in front of beautiful hazy violet eyes.  The boy rose soundlessly from his bed, moving his nude body to the glass window that shone in the light of the moon outside.  Tilting his head to the heavens, Duo watched the clear, star speckled sky with eyes void of emotion.  But inside the pool of purple were the reflection of bright stars and the beautiful light of the moon.  Tangles of brown hair fell around the slim body of a mere boy, falling gracefully along his rear end in curls.

With eyes unclouded… 

Duo slowly lowered his eyes to the ground outside from his position on the second floor.  Staring at the rocked gravel of the driveway to their secluded home, the sleepy Duo gave a weary smile as he watched two children kick an orange ball back and forth between each other.  The little red head girl laughed, hand upon her straw hat as she kicked the bouncing ball with all her might, pink dress flying and showing the white laced panties underneath.  The older red head boy raced and kicked the ball back, the round shape bouncing happily against the grass and gravel and out of reach from the tiny girl.  Making a squeal, she chased after the ball, smiling with glee.

Duo gave a sad smile as they faded from his sight.

"Duo?"

Duo turned his head around to look over his shoulder and locked eyes upon Heero Yuy as he sat up from the black covered bed.  The moonlight trailed across the dark room and seemed to have melted in Heero's lap, radiating his face and bare chest with a pale glow.  Duo noted that Heero must have discarded his tank top when he decided to rest with his troubled companion and unconsciously, Duo silently sucked in his breath.

_Oh god…he's so beautiful…_Duo thought, a weakening feeling growing in his knees and heart beginning to thump loudly in his chest.  Many times Duo had wanted to see Heero's perfect chest and go figure it had been now…when he felt so weak…

"Duo?  What are you doing up?" Heero questioned, eyebrow lifting up half way.  Duo bit back a smile, wondering how lucky he was going to be to see this rare side of Heero before the mask returned.  The poor pilot sighed slowly.  It wouldn't be long for the mask to appear, though…but how much he was in love with the man inside.

No! He wasn't in love with him.  Goddamn him, he wasn't gay.  He just felt close to the Gundam pilot and that was _all_.  If it was love, he would have all the tingles and jingles and he never ever had those.  No.  No way.  Totally straight.

"Duo," Heero warned, impatient at the ex-pilot's blank expression.  

"I was…just watching the children, Heero," Duo said after another moment's hesitation and slowly made his way to the bed.  The happy pilot had completely forgot his nude state and it was all that Heero could do but to ignore the sway of his hair and hips.  And especially…other places.

Duo crawled back under the covers; the faint glow of the moon captured in his hair and lay down.  Heero watched him with intrigued and perhaps worried eyes and Duo gave a happy grin.

"Children?"

"Night, Heero."

*****

One Week Later

Duo waved cheerfully at his friends as they drove down the dusty road, red paint barely visible under the chunks of mud upon it.  The climb for the jeep was quite a steep one and it was impossible to keep it clean after the nights of weary weather they had been having.  Quatre's blonde head stuck itself out of the window and the innocent pilot waved good-bye.

"Have fun doing paperwork!" Duo called, grinning.

A slow smile spread across the boyish face. "Have fun doing chores!"

"WHAT!?"

But Quatre didn't answer, merely laughed and slipped back into the muddy red jeep and disappeared beyond sight behind a large hill.

"No fair, Quatre Winner!" Duo called, shaking his fist into the air.  He hated chores.  And homework.  And Heero's laptop. And silence!

Duo sighed heavily, pale shoulders slumping and moved back into the empty house.  Might as well get the dustpan out.

*****

"Do you think he's going to be all right?" Quatre asked, turning his head to Wufei as he drove down the highway to the Preventor head quarters.  Behind them, Heero and Trowa relaxed against the comfortable leather seats, seeming content to going back to regular schedule.

"That's the second time you've asked that," Wufei pointed out, eyes on the road.

"He'll be fine," Trowa confirmed, eyes out the window to watch the fast moving landscape.  "We all need to get on with our lives, especially Duo.  You know he hates being taken cared of."

"Yes, but he needs it," Quatre urged, uncertainty clinging onto his voice.

"No," Wufei said, taking his eyes off the road for a moment.  "What he needs is us to stop raising eyebrows when he goes into the bathroom.  Or look at him when he coughs.  Or ask him constantly about his pale skin.  Or-."

"All right, but you know how much he lost that night!" Quatre said, turning around in his seat.

"Yes, enough for him to be most certainly dead," Heero spoke up, arms crossing over his chest.  Lifting his eyes from the floor, he met Quatre's eyes.  "Lets just give him a day alone.  This is a chance to see if he can take care of himself."

"Agreed," Trowa said eyes never leaving the countryside and tilting slightly in his seatbelt as Wufei met the sharp turns in the road.

"Take it easy," Quatre cautioned before returning to the main subject.  "And if he can't?  What if he is having one of his attacks right now?  He can die if-."

"If he was dead, he would be right now," Heero cut him off.  "And he isn't.  He's bouncing around the house all the time, trying to show us that he's fine."

"Which he is," Wufei cut in.  "He changed my shampoo into honey this morning, raving about revenge and hot water."

Trowa snickered from the backseat then suddenly stopped and looked closer outside. 

"Wufei," Trowa addressed.

"What?"

"Stop."

"Why?"

"Do it!"

Immediately, the jeep stopped and Quatre was thrown forward against his seat belt.  Huffing, the boy flew back harder into the seat.

Heero grumbled from the backseat. "Thanks for testing the brakes, Wufei."

Trowa didn't bother to complain at the abrupt stop and threw open the door, seat belt slamming against the seat as it was ripped off.  The older boy ran back a few feet from the jeep, and stopped at the edge of the cliff, looking down.

"Trowa?" Quatre called, throwing open his door and stepping out of the muddy car.

"Come here!" Trowa waved his friends over, eyes never leaving from whatever he was looking at at the bottom of the cliff.  The three pilots crawled out of the jeep and walked over, curiosity peaked at what had caught the silent pilot's interest.

"What-." Quatre started but stopped short as he looked down the rocky terrain cliff and the jagged rocks below.

"What the hell?" Wufei finished the sentence, confused eyes lowered upon the bright red metal beaming up at them.

Down below, bent and broken upon the crumbles of rocks, laid Duo's once brand new motorcycle, red paint glinting in the sunlight with dust and scratches upon the new metal.  It was bent in an odd position as the impact upon the carefully made machine broke its back in more ways than one. The front wheel was tilted upwards to the pilots, as if it begged for help and cried in pain.

Silence fell upon the pilots before Heero gently broke it, "I think Duo has some explaining to do."

All three pilots nodded in silent agreement.

"Let's get back to the house."

*****

Duo laughed and narrowed his eyes upon the tiled kitchen floor before him.  Grinning manically, the boy moved forward and slid across the floor gracefully.  Behind him, music pounded from the stereos, singing the old song 'Original Prankster' by the old band Offspring.

"Noise, noise!" Duo sang as he skid upon his soaped lathered spongy feet.  Behind him, he left a trail of bubbling clean substance.  Dancing and sliding around the tiled floor, Duo moved his arms around crazily, getting completely lost in the music blasting from the stereo.  No one was watching him so he got crazy with his dances, butt shaking, arms waving and braid twisting around madly.  

"Knock down the walls, it's alive in you!" Duo screamed, head banging while he pretended that he was the drummer and started murdering his instrument with crucial blows to the fake plates.

"You can do it!" Duo sang, added an Italian accent to his voice and shaking his tush.  He moved faster around the kitchen table and stopped suddenly.

"You know, it smells like shit, god damn!" Duo screamed at the top of his lungs, showing his love for his favorite line in the entire song.  He started dancing around again, pretending he had a microphone in hand and singing along with the song once again.

When the song ended, Duo stood breathless in the middle of the kitchen, soapsuds bubbling on the tiled floor.  Smiling at his accomplishment, the happy pilot went to change his sponges for watery ones to wipe off the floor.  Slipping off his footwear, Duo passed a window in the living room…and stopped short.  Double taking, the Shinigami maniac looked outside as he watched a red jeep come into view.  Raising an eyebrow, Duo went to the window.

Did they forget something? Duo thought, tilting his head.  They would have been at the Preventors now.  Why are they coming back?

Suddenly it hit him.

"God damn you, Quatre.  Did you convince-."

Jerking, Duo's eyes grew wide and he dropped his sponges to the floor, cowering over.  Pain shot through his wrists and the boy cried out in panic, in pain, and in horror.  Duo collapsed to the floor, his hands and knees breaking most of his fall.

"Oh God!" Duo cried out, violet eyes wide in horror then screamed as he felt something break through his wrists forcefully.  Blood filled his vision as it splattered across the carpet as skin and bones broke.

"NOOO!!!" Duo screamed at the top of his lungs.  " STOP!  NO, STOP!"

Suddenly, Duo's hands flew up into the air and his body was pulled taut.  Arms spread out wide across from him and Duo screamed in horror as he had lost complete control of his body…

Again.

Blood dripped noiselessly upon the carpet and Duo felt tears begin to break to the surface.  His arms were lacing with pain, starting from the wrists that each had a hole going right through.

"HELP ME!!!" Duo screamed.  He heard the roar of the jeep's engine just outside.  Duo screamed louder, harder, his voice cracking in horror, in pain to be heard.  The engine was cut off.  Voices were heard.  Duo saw a glimpse of Heero's head from the window.

Arms suddenly falling heavily to his sides, the front door swung open and Heero filled the doorway, gun at ready and pointed straight at Duo's head.

"Duo…" Heero stared wide-eyed.  Duo gave a sigh of relief…just before he fell forward and blacked out.


	6. Ice and Steam

Title: Tainted Conviction – Part Five

Author: Sita Seraph

Genre: Angst, Religious relatings

Pairing: 1x2 eventually.

Rated: R

Warning: Gruesome treatment, stigmata, sixth sense, and a whole lot of shit.

Note: I thought this was a very freaky chapter…I hope I brought the suspense and nerve threatening wracking tension into the story.

To say he had entered a dreamless state would make him a liar.  For everywhere he turned were hopeless, dark memories.  Things that bloomed from the war, things that he had mashed down with a steel hammer.  He had forgotten those things for a very good reason; so, he guessed, it was only appropriate to haunt him in his only time of rest.  It was such a bitter and cruel thing to do; something only God would remind him of.

Duo watched with unclouded eyes, his hand clenching his gun at his side.  The medal was so hard, so cold.  Duo tightened his hold on the gun, fist clenching it so tight that his hand began to quiver.  He wasn't afraid now.  He wasn't worried.  He couldn't even bring himself to hate what he was doing.  He couldn't summon up anger, pity, and woe.

There was nothing.  A blank settling over his stomach, the sense of mass murder and not feeling the least sorrowful for the crime committed.  Duo wasn't sorry.  He wasn't anything.  He was just a soldier among the thousands, doing his job, and killing whoever stood in his way.  He had no conscience he was just a weapon.  Someone would tap him on the shoulder and Duo would push the safety lock off, and the toy weapon would fire his gun.  Cruel and heartless way to look at it, but then again, war was heartless and a bitch in the beginning. 

Duo slowly raised his gun again and took careful aim at his target.  The boy quivered in terror, wide brown and innocent eyes bearing up at him for pity, for mercy.  Looking for the humanity each man had.  But Duo had none.  Remember?  He was just a toy soldier.

Duo pulled the trigger without batting an eye and the 8-year-old boy fell soundly to the ground, the gunfire still echoing in the dead air.  Death moved on, eyes forward and didn't even glance at the quickly forming pool spreading across the dirty ground.  His gun rang off two more times in the dead night, finishing off the boy's parents with efficiency.  And as he left the quiet home, he again felt that empty, blank feeling.  He had killed in cold blood…and felt nothing for it.  

Besides…they were just nameless casualties.

*****

Duo sat up, still in his dream state, the blanket sliding down his chest and stomach to curl up in his lap.  His eyes opened with a gasp, the dream releasing him from its strangle hold.  Free at last, Duo panted into the night air, his body wet with sweat.  The dream burned in his mind, the images scarring his eyes and he shivered violently.  Knots twisted in his stomach and for a moment, he thought he was going to throw up.  But with that thought and the mental image, Duo forced away the nausea.  He didn't want to go through that hell again.

Slowly, the ex-Shinigami pilot brought his knees up to his elbows and held his head in a low defeat.  His breath trembled, from unknown tears, cold, and guilt.  He had a dream that was not his own.  He had dreamt of a crime he had not committed.  And yet the cold medal in his hands was deadly real.  The empty hole in his stomach was like the pains on his wrists.  And the cry of the gun still rang in his ears.

Hesitantly, Duo raised his head, body shivering in the cold air of his room.  His hair was free from his braid, tumbling down his back in a rain of freedom and curls.  Around his wrists he took notice of the white bandages that was soaking with blood.  Nausea swept over him but Duo swallowed it down, staring at the red ball against the white.  The air swept by him, the hand of winter touching his bare skin, and the Preventor shivered again.

It was so cold, Duo couldn't stand it.  It was amazing that not only he had slept through this god-forsaken air; but that he couldn't see his breath each time he exhaled.  With the thought of a warm shower barging in his mind, Duo kicked off the sheets and pattered across the floor.  He held his wrists up, afraid that maybe his blood might drip free from the bandage.  He crept to his door, opening it with his toes and peered out into the hall.  Satisfied that no one had woken from his bad dreams, Duo crossed the fluffy carpet in the hallway and made his way to the bathroom.  One elbow hitting the door open and the other clicking on the light, Duo stopped in the doorway to look around at the small bathroom.  It was spotless and clean again, the trace of previous events erased.  But the air of blood was still thick in the room, the atmosphere filled with a sickness.  Duo shivered again, almost taking a step away from the haunting white bathroom.

Oh, no you don't, Duo scolded himself.  He was afraid of a freaking bathroom!  How pathetic was that?  Determined to prove this pit in his stomach was not fear, Duo stepped into the bathroom and went to the sink.  The air was still chilly even in the room and the thought of warm, cascading water over him made Duo shiver yet again.

Duo unraveled his bandages quickly, humming a soft tune to keep his mind off other non-important things, such as this morning, and revealed his wrist to the light.

Duo gave a dry heave at the ugly, gruesome sight.  A red hole broke though his entire wrist, as if a stake had been driven through.  It was large, so large that Duo could peer inside and seen his fractured bone and the red, pulsing sick inside of meat…

Again, Duo gagged and drew his gaze away.  He was going to puke, he was going to throw up, and he was going to die.  Yuck.  Quickly, Duo wrapped his wrists back up with new bandages, eager to cover up the hideous sight from view before he coughed up his Cheerio's.  When the sight was gone, Duo leaned heavily on the tiled counter and tried to get his heart and breath back to normal.  His stomach was doing nice little flip-flops and Trowa leap, twirl, and land jumps.  The urge to throw up was right in his throat, the bitter taste already in his throat, but he refused.  He wouldn't gag.

Duo gagged.

He would not heave.

Duo gave a dry heave, head lowering to throw up.

And he would not throw up.

Duo opened his mouth wide and up went his Cheerio's.

*****

After exhausting himself with throwing up all his worth, Duo had crawled into the shower.  He felt ten times better with an empty stomach and now all he wanted was to rid the chill that kept wracking his body.  Stripped to the bare, Duo turned on the shower and sighed thankfully as it beated down on him instantly.  Warm, luscious water.  God, it felt like heaven…Duo closed his eyes, a tiny smile on his lips.

_Bastard.  Whore.  How dare you fucking do this to me?_

Duo's eyes snapped open, breath caught in his throat.  He quickly looked around, violet eyes wide.  But he was alone behind the closed door, steam filling up the small room.  He must have been tired, his mind was beginning to play tricks on him.  

The water still wasn't hot enough.  Duo turned the knob a little bit more and hotter water beat down at him.  The white mist thickened in the room.  The slam of the water against the tiles rang in Duo's head, the thick mist calming his muscles with the water.  Duo closed his eyes again, relaxed and happy to be under the waterfall.

_Did you know how much I fucking hate you all?  I hated you and your rules!_

Something began to twist is Duo's gut.  Desperately, Duo turned the knob more, trying to block out the voices that was screaming in his head.  The water seemed to rain with more anger, turning his skin red upon impact.  The fog in the room was so thick; every breath was getting harder to take.

And still, Duo wanted it hotter.

Well, this is how I say FUCK YOU!  I wanted to fucking kill you so bad that I would fanaticize about it!  Now its come and I can't wait to get you out of my fucking, goddamn life.

Stop, stop, stop! Duo screamed, breath coming in sharp, short gasps.  He turned the knob all the way to its max.  The water burned, burned, burned!  It scolded, it hurt so badly!  And yet Duo couldn't get the craving out of his head to make it hotter, to make it hurt more.  Duo felt the need to shrivel up and hide from the water but his body wouldn't allow it.  He stood before bracing against the acid shower, skin burning away.  It hurt and yet it felt so fucking good!

And then he felt the eyes.

Eyes snapping open from their sated state, Duo's head whipped towards the closed doorway, the steam so thick making it unbelievably hard to see.  But through it all, he saw.

The door was no longer closed.

Inside its frame stood a very tall, beautiful girl.  Her hair was soaking wet, curls of black trailing over her white gown and dripping to the ground.  Her skin was cherry red, burnt, peeling away.  Disgusting.  Her breath came in short; hallow gasps, as if unable to breathe correctly. And those furious, black eyes were blank with rage.  A hollow feeling Duo felt in his dreams.  No regret or pain.  

The girl slowly raised her hand, the gun shaking in her grip as she held it so tight, her fingers almost white instead of the scolding red that marked her skin.  She cocked the gun.

Duo's eyes widened.

She took careful aim.

I don't want to die, he thought.

And the trigger was pulled.

BAM!


	7. Burning Flesh

Title: Tainted Conviction - Part Six

Author: Sita Seraph

Genre: Angst, Religious relatings

Pairing: 1x2 eventually.

Rated: R

Warning: Gruesome treatment, stigmata, sixth sense, and a whole lot of shit.

Heero stirred from his dreamless sleep, mumbling into the pillow on top of his single bed.  His hair was a mess from tossing and turning all night.  He couldn't figure out why he couldn't fall asleep, especially since he was exhausted from the But Duo's face, before the Shinigami pilot passed out, stayed with Heero, burning into his skull like a burning hot poker stick. The way the sense of relief, of having been found, had washed over the happy pilot's face kept slapping Heero awake.  And his wrists were the worst.  The ability to see right through muscle, skin, and bone was beyond sickening - even for Heero.  He was able to handle broken and disjointed bones.  He was prepared for bullet wounds and knife cuts.  But he was not at all set for holes that went through the other side. 

Heero had forced the twisting of his gut to stop long enough to clean and bandage Duo's wounds before he set him to bed.  Afterwards, he and the rest of the Gundam pilots had searched the house, top to bottom, to find any drugs, weapons, or anything else that could have caused Duo's first episode, the puking of the blood, and now this.

They came up with nothing.

Duo still had not woken when they went to bed.  After tearing the house apart and back together again, the ex-pilots each found themselves growing weary and body parts achy from the stress forced upon their young shoulders.  But before going to bed, Quatre had set up a short meeting.

"He would be dead by now," Quatre said softly, the first thing he said as they assembled in the living room downstairs.  Wufei stiffened in the loveseat he was sitting in, arms crossed so tightly around his chest that he looked more uncomfortable than usual.  Trowa was sipping on a cup of black coffee from his green mug, lying back against the couch.  Quatre was standing up by the coffee table, across from Heero who sat on the floor with a knee drawn up to drape his arm over.

"He should have been dead a long time ago," Trowa pointed out and his emerald eyes grew to the stairs.  They all knew what he meant.  The bathroom scene.

"And what about his motorcycle?" Wufei included, drawing himself into the short conversation.

"Its obvious that Duo has a lot to say to us," Quatre said quietly, his right hand twisting the side of his pant leg with shaky fingers.  "We need to get some answers."

"What if he doesn't know them?" Trowa asked.

"Of course, he'll know the answers," Wufei cut in, his voice straining to keep the sarcasm out of his tone.  "Whatever he is doing, he's doing to himself.  He needs help."

"We found nothing to prove it was him, Wufei," Quatre said.  "For all we know…"

They waited for Quatre to continue and he twisted his pants a bit more, shifting from one foot to the next and eyes drawn the floor.

"I don't know," Quatre continued.  "For all we know, maybe somebody came in here and did it to him.  Or perhaps it's some new virus."

It all seemed like logical answers.  A virus that made you puke up gallons of your blood.  A virus that in one-hour, ate away your wrists to make one clean, nice, circular gap on each arm.  Or it could have been an assassin that drove beautifully carved stake into a Gundam pilot's wrists and drugs that made Duo throw up half his body fluids. 

Uh huh.  Yeah.  Right.

Silence fell upon the prodding pilots heavily.  It was like the stress that had been thrown on their shoulders when a pilot, one of them, was ill and dying upstairs.  And the circumstances were so odd, so strange, that none of the soldiers could come up with an answer.  They knew a doctor would not know as well. 

"We'll have to wait for Duo to wake up and tell us," Heero said, breaking the silence like a steel hammer on glass. 

"What if he dies?" Quatre asked, looking down at him with his hands clasped in front of him.

"He won't," Heero said.  "He won't."

Heero didn't know why he was so sure that Duo would not die.  Maybe it was because that even in war, with all likely chances that the Shinigami pilot would not survive, he left the battlefield with a crazed smile on his face.  Or maybe it had been the last few days, in which for all logic, he should be dead and buried in the cold ground.  Or maybe it was because he just knew.

Ah, hell, Heero thought as he blinked out of his daze.  

Heero kicked off the sheets roughly and they fluttered over the end of the bed.  Sitting up, hair a mess, Heero wiped his sleepy eyes and gave a very heavy sigh.  He was tired, he was cranky, and he was thirsty.  And most of all, Duo Maxwell was trying to kill himself in the other room.  Just great.  Heero sometimes really hated his life.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, his feet touched the ground.  It took a second but then reality kicked in and Heero immediately jerked them back off the ground.  The floorboards were freezing cold.  Reaching over blindly in the dark, Heero turned on his bedside lamp.  Light flooded the room and the shadows rolled back into their respective corners.  Heero stared at the floor, long and hard, as white wisps escaped from between the gaps of the wooden boards.  The air from the floor was freezing. Reaching, Heero's fingertips lightly touched the ground.  He jerked his fingers back, startled as suddenly the air current from the floorboards shifted and changed quickly.  The cold mist was sucked back into the boards like a vacuum cleaner.  Heero stared, amazed at the boards, completely taken aback and terribly confused.  Gingerly, Heero lifted one foot out and lowered it slowly to the floor.

The frost and cold was gone.

And that's when he heard it.

Heero whipped his head towards his door as he heard the water of a shower running.  Before Heero comprehended his racing thoughts, he leapt out of bed, across the floor and out of his room.  Stopping short with a jerk, Heero watched the light flooding into the hall by the open doorway to the bathroom.  It was the only source of light in the hall. It seemed creepy, the light and the pounding of water hitting the shower walls.  Escaping from the bathroom was a second white mist and Heero immediately thought about his room and the frosted floorboards that once surrounded his bed. The Wing pilot shuddered gently, almost afraid to go near the haunted bathroom.  He was afraid of what he might see.  Afraid that he might see Duo.  But since he heard no Duo, no sound at all besides water falling, Heero took small steps forward. He held his breath.  And then he peered into the bathroom, stepping into the single shed of light and strained to see through the heavy, very hot mist of the bathroom.

"Oh…My God…" Heero whispered, eyes growing wide.  Yet again, his training of a Gundam pilot was for naught for he was not prepared for the next sight before him.  Heero took a step back, a hand flying up to cover his nose as the stench of death, of burnt and still burning flesh attacked him full force.  His eyes met ruby red so dark, and skin so burnt that it looked like the skin was melting off of him.  His ribs appeared through the thin covering of scarlet tissue, his stomach caving in.  Blank, violet hued eyes stared out at him, hollow and void.  No one was home.  Dead eyes.

Duo was dead.

Heero rushed forward with a speed of a tiger, whipping through the mist and slammed the water off.  The pounding of water ceased but the stench of fried tissue stayed around him like the hovering mist.  Heero stared down at Duo's blank face.  Blank eyes.  Heero stared at the burnt fresh that was just melting off his skin like wax. He gawked at the hair that was the only thing unharmed by the killing water.

"D-Duo…" Heero's voice trembled, he couldn't help it.  He started reaching out, eyes getting hazy, but changed his mind hastily.  He couldn't touch him.  Not that burnt flesh.  He didn't want to remember red and scorched skin.  He wanted to remember milky white and smooth skin.  Heero turned away quickly.  He gripped the counter for support, knuckles growing white and closed his eyes tightly.  Duo…was dead.  He was wrong.  Duo killed himself.  He scorched his own body.  Duo was dead. Dead. Dead. 

One word.

Dead.

So powerful.

Dead.

Heero wanted to scream and cry at the same time.


	8. Ghosts in My Mind

Title: Tainted Conviction - Part Seven

Author: Sita Seraph

Genre: Angst, Religious relatings

Pairing: 1x2 eventually.

Rated: R

Warning: Gruesome treatment, stigmata, sixth sense, and a whole lot of shit.

I'm sorry but this isn't an update.  It seems that I skipped a chapter when I was posting this.  Please go back to the chapter called Taste of Death (3).  There, you can read a new chapter but its in the best.  I'm so sorry for the inconvenience and if anyone was confused.

Heero stood in the doorway of Quatre's room, watching the blonde boy sleep on peacefully, head nearly buried into the pillows that surrounded the head of his bed.  Thick sheets covered the ex-Sandrock pilot, making only his little head appear from the mass of warm coverings.  He breathed heavily into the pillows, a child-like innocence sketched across his face as he slumbered on his side.  He snorted suddenly, took a deep breath, and then grew still again, lips moving into the pillow as he dreamt of another place.

And Trowa slept beside him.

Trowa was lying on his back, head turned away from his friend and the covers reaching his waist.  No innocence shone on his face.  Just content, a blank content as his chest rose and fell, the loose buttoned up shirt moving with him.  A hand was stretched out by Trowa's side on top of the covers right next to Quatre's limp hand that had been tossed over his body in sleep. Trowa's other hand rested on his abdomen, rising and falling on each breath.

Heero took a slow breath and stepped inside towards the sleeping counterparts.  Walking into the dark and silent room, Heero took a hesitant seat on Quatre's side of the bed, the mattress falling lower with the extra weight.  One's breathing immediately changed at the third presence in the room and Heero waited, watching.  Slowly, Trowa's eyes slid open and turned his head towards the perfect pilot.  Blinking away sleep, Trowa raised an eyebrow, his eyes questioning Heero's presence silently.  Heero slowly shook his head.

"I need your help with Duo," Heero whispered.  Quatre slept on, mouth open now on the pillow and taking shallow breaths.  Trowa sat up a little, being careful not to wake the third pilot in the room.

"What's wrong?" Trowa asked quietly, even as he started to pull back the covers of the bed and stand up.  Heero didn't answer him.  Instead, he sighed and rose from the mattress, walking out of the room quickly with a call over his shoulder.

"He's in the bathroom."

*****

Heero walked downstairs hastily, keeping his trained eyes away from the bathroom as he passed it, and walked across the puffy living room carpet to the kitchen.  He was going to call Sally Po, to tell her what happened to Duo, and to get some help with his…body.

Heero, after composing himself in the bathroom, had immediately cut off all emotions like a ribbon against scissors.  He didn't feel, he didn't even think about what he was doing.  It was like the war again, just doing as told and not thinking about it during or once it's done.  He felt empty inside again; the feelings being wiped clean like a Word Document.  He didn't want to feel right now, he couldn't. He had to call Sally Po.  Then he could walk away to someplace where no one would find him, and let his feelings show. 

But not yet.

Heero picked up the phone quietly from its hook and started dialing Sally Po.  The small beeps from the telephone were the only sound in the kitchen, besides the ticking of the overhead clock.  Heero slowly raised the phone to his ear, listening to the rings from the other end.  The clock suddenly dinged as it announced the hour of 3 o'clock in the morning.  The phone kept ringing.  The clock ticked on.

It was so quiet.

Heero looked up slowly as he heard someone walking downstairs.  Trowa appeared around the corner of the staircase, confusion all over his face, as he stared at the ground.  Heero didn't expect that kind of expression.  Slowly, Trowa looked up and saw Heero in the doorway of the kitchen.  The ex-Heavyarms pilot moved towards him, dodging the chairs and furniture of the living room.  The flaps of his shirt brushed past his black sleep pants as he walked, making no sound on the carpet flooring.  Heero slowly drew away the ringing tone in his ear, eyebrow rising at his Gundam pilot.  Trowa was neither scared, nor sickened.  Trowa wasn't even surprised or stumbling at the death of their counterpart pilot.  Trowa was though looking a little lost, confused, as he stared at Heero.  Maybe he was still in shock…

"Heero," Trowa said.  "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Heero asked, the confusion on the edge of his voice.  Wasn't Trowa sad?  Did he block all his emotions out as well?

"What do I mean?" Trowa returned.  "Is this some joke?"

A joke!? "What?"

"Heero," Trowa started.  "Why is the bathroom all hot and steamy?  And where's Duo?" 

Heero couldn't feel the phone in his fingers anymore.  He stared, shocked, at Trowa, who stayed absolutely neutral in all aspects.  Was he joking around?  How could he be so cold when Duo laid burnt and dead upstairs?  What did he mean 'where's Duo?'  Duo's upstairs, rotting in the bathroom with his flesh reeking the air like putrid disease.  Duo has been dead for 15 minutes, maybe even more, and all he can say is 'where's Duo?'  Was he blind…?

…Or was Heero wrong?  Was Duo alive?  Did he crawl out of the bathroom, whimpering out his agony but not saying a bloody word, and go to his room?  Was Duo…alive?  Heero was finding it hard to breathe and Trowa's expression changed to confusion.  His hand flew up to catch Heero but the perfect soldier moved back.  He was confused.  Was Duo alive or dead?

Duo alive.

Duo dead.

The world spun for a moment and Heero closed his eyes tightly.  He noticed, too late, that the phone in his hand was no longer ringing and Sally's voice was screaming in the phone.  He noticed, too late, that the phone slipped from his grasp.

And caught by someone else's hand.

Heero whirled around, eyes opened to look straight into piercing, blank violet eyes.  But not dead, beautiful orbs of purple.  Alive, unemotional balls of lilac.  Heero almost felt his chest cave in with disbelief.

Duo was alive.

Duo slowly took a step back, a black robe barely covering his nude body parts.  Casually, watching Heero with the most intense eyes that the perfect pilot caught himself watching, he clicked the phone off and Sally's panicked 'hello!?' disappeared with a beep.  

"Duo, what are you doing?" Trowa's voice broke through Heero's shock and it was then that the perfect pilot noticed yet a second thing: 

Duo was perfectly healthy.  His skin was no longer burnt, but back to the pale, milky white.  His shoulders were no longer black but smooth and round.  His nipples were restored to the pink hue.  His legs were long and strong looking again.  His flesh was intact, not melting off his bones.  He was Duo again.

Heero sucked in his breath suddenly when Duo leaned forward, his eyes never leaving the blue of the ex-Wing pilot.  Their bare chests touched lightly, the only intimate contact Heero had ever had before.  Duo's arm lifted, as if to draw Heero closer.  Heero held his breath.

There was a soft click as the phone was returned to the base to charge.

Heero let out his breath quietly, shoving his dripping excitement away. Had he imagined it all?  Had Duo been in his room all along?  Had he slept walk to the bathroom and made it all hot and steamy?  There had to be some logical answer because Duo was right here, well and still breathing.  There wasn't even a scratch on him.  Well, except the wounds that were on his wrists, red and bloody now, and begging for a changing.  He was perfectly all right.

Him and the ax he was holding.

Heero shook his head once and took a double take down at the ax Duo was holding tightly.  It was slightly swinging in the pilot's grasp, making it look perfectly casual in his hand, while it caught the pale light as it swung back and forth.

"D-Duo…?"

"Excuse me, Heero," Duo said, his tone completely casual.  Nothing was wrong.  Nope, not at all.  "But you're in my way."

"Duo, what are you doing?" Trowa asked, blocking the doorway now.  Duo's eyes finally broke from staring at Heero's confused face, and up at Trowa's.  He smiled slightly.

"Nuttin'," Duo said.  He was acting completely normal.  Acting like Duo.  But then why did his voice bring chills down Heero's spine?

"Give me the ax, Duo," Trowa ordered and slowly offered his hand. Duo's eyes snapped to the offering hand then, after a moment's pause, drew the sharp blade behind his robe.

"No," Duo said softly.  "No, I don't think so."

"Duo…"

"Get out of my way, Trowa."

Trowa blinked, taken aback by the now livid tone.  It was dripping with menace and in one second, Duo's mask of neutrality shattered into that of impatience and anger.  The ax suddenly rose and was gripped by the second hand, violet eyes burning with aggression and narrowed into slits.  Trowa took a small step back and the ax rose higher.

"Move," Duo seethed.  Trowa quickly stepped aside and Duo stalked past, ax lowering again to sway by his side.  As he passed the doorway, his tense body suddenly loosened up and he walked casually to the staircase, a soft whistle passing his lips.  The last thing the pilots saw was the beautiful ends of Duo's loose hair as he climbed the steps.

"Quatre…" Trowa mumbled, eyes widening.

"Wufei," Heero muttered.  Both of the ex-pilots bolted for the stairs.

*****

SLAM.

CRACK.

Heero ran to his room where the loud noises were coming from.  But it seemed his feet were heavy, too heavy in fact, and he was moving in slow motion.  He feared that Duo dragged Quatre or Wufei into his room and started to attack them…but no, that couldn't be right.  Duo wouldn't do that.  Ever.  Heero found it was getting hard to breathe as he neared his room with Trowa.  Like something was sucking his life away…He felt so weak all of a sudden…

What was wrong with him…?

Finally, Heero's hand closed in on the frame of his door, out of breath, and peeked it.  He was all prepared to see Duo swinging to cut off Quatre's head.  He was ready for blood to be splattered on the wall and small cries out pain escaping his friend's lips…

But Duo surprised Heero again.  There was no blood.  No cries.  Just his bed, thrown up against the wall instead of in the middle of the room.  In fact, there was only Duo.  And his ax.  Which kept slamming into the floorboard.

SLAM.

SLAM.

"Duo!" Heero yelled, confused and furious as Duo hacked away the beautiful floor of his room.  What the hell was he doing?  "Duo, knock it off!"

But he wouldn't listen to him.  He kept chopping up the floor, splinters flying in the air and chestnut strands flying in the air with the effort of the swing as it crashed into the dying floorboards.  Heero was growing breathless again…and then he smelt it.

Revolting back, Heero covered his nose as the ghastly smell of death wafted up to his nose.  He gagged though; he wasn't able to stop it as he lodged up in his throat.  Oh, God, it was horrible.  Where was it coming from…?

Quatre and Wufei had crawled out of their beds from the sound and joined the other pilots in the hall.  Quatre covered his mouth and nose, closing his eyes tightly and turning away.

"Oh, God!" Quatre's muffled voice came through his hand.  "What IS that!?"

Heero though didn't close his eyes.  He was the first to see them as Duo kicked and shuffled away the broken pieces of wood.  It was then, when he saw them, that he covered his mouth and turned his head away, eyes closing shut.  But their images still burned in his skull.

Three bodies.  A boy.  A woman.  A man.  Deathly pale and a single mark, the mark of a bullet, driven into their skulls as they rotted away.  Scratches and symbols splayed across their bodies.  Heero recognized some Japanese writing even on their nude bodies.  He recognized the holy cross for Christians.  He knew what the X over each heart was.  Oh, God, their dead eyes stayed with him, even if he just glanced at them.  Blank.  Like Duo's.  They saw nothing now, yet they stayed open.  Their horror, misery, pain was still masked in their face.  Oh, God, no.

Heero gripped the frame tighter and slowly opened his eyes as he heard Duo toss away his ax to the floor.  The nearly nude pilot leaned down and to Heero's horror, Duo picked up the naked boy from his resting place.  Rotten flesh gleamed in the moonlight and the stench grew worse.  But the insane pilot was immune to it.  He hugged the boy, very tightly to him as he sat down on the floor.  The dead child's back slumped into Duo's lap, his head limp on his stomach.  Dead eyes stared blankly out the window, yet Duo kept holding him, as if it was going to bring the child back to life.  But they all knew it wouldn't. 

Duo raised his lowered head and looked out the window, glazed, sparkling eyes catching the light of the moon.  But his expression was nothing; the frown on his lips was neither angered nor sad.  Emotion was lacking on the normally happy pilot's face and the blankness did not belong there…

Yet Heero couldn't help think how Duo looked so peaceful and beautiful that one single moment. 

And then he spoke. It was soft, blank, ugly, and…deadly.  "So, you want to fuck with death…?  Bring it on."


	9. Visions of Torture

Title: Tainted Conviction - Part Eight

Author: Sita Seraph

Genre: Angst, Religious relatings

Pairing: 1x2 eventually.

Rated: R

Warning: Gruesome treatment, stigmata, sixth sense, and a whole lot of shit.

It hadn't taken long for the ex-Gundam pilots to move out of the house.  It seemed that all of them, nay one, found bad memories and a creepy chill in the air that made the house loose all its color.  Quatre seemed to be in the worst shape after discovering the bodies.  His hands kept trembling hours after and he mostly hung out in the kitchen with a mug of hot coffee in his hand.  Heero had watched his friend from afar as Quatre kept rubbing his forehead with trembling fingers, like he had a horrible headache that refused to depart.  The whole group had stayed up that long night, except Duo, who slept on the couch, curled up, and an innocent expression on his face.  Wufei, Trowa, and Heero stayed up with their confusing companion, watching him sleep like nothing had happened and his dreams were filled with pleasant thoughts.  Wufei had barely moved from the seat he had taken residence to, his knuckles glued to his lips, and staring off out the window that gave vision to the creeping sunlight in the horizon.  Trowa's eyes were fixed upon Duo's flickering closed eyelids, watching the deep breathing pilot with the most intense, green eyes.  And Heero plopped himself onto the floor, nestling in the carpet as he tried to close his eyes for at least one minute.  But behind the dark eyelids, he saw nothing but those dummy eyes of the corpses, lifeless and innocent.  They had scarred him and he didn't know why.  The war had brought more death and insanity then this night could ever bring but the heavy stench of fatality closed in on them so hard that it was like they were locked in separate boxes and oxygen was slowly being sucked away.  Maybe it was the fact that none of them had ever faced innocent death.  The kind of death that had no cause, no reason behind it.  In the war, they had a reason for killing mass hundreds.  They didn't feel pity for the soldiers that they killed.  They didn't revolt back in sickness when they saw their rival bleeding and sunken eyes staring at the ceiling.  But it had been a single night that reminded them of the other innocents in a war of power and hate.  A night that opened their eyes when Shinigami's hand raised and slapped their faces.  Hard.  No, it came to a silent agreement that they had to leave the house that twisted their guts with disgust.  They had to depart from the house that showed them a whole new terror.

So, after calling the Preventers about mysteriously finding three corpses in their house, the pilots had packed up in quick haste and drove far away from the once peaceful home.  It hadn't taken long to find a suitable home for five men and close to their office.  The only downfall it seemed was that it was a neighborhood instead of some home in the wild country.

Duo sat silently in the backseat beside Quatre.  He was staring out the window, watching houses and people go by in the busy neighborhood.  He had been the only one who didn't want to leave the house.  It was nice there.  He liked it.  He didn't feel the death that suffocated the other four pilots.  He didn't smell the terror in the air that now weaved itself into their skin.  He felt nothing but a sense of comfort there.  That is, once he beat away all the demons of the house…but now he had no idea where he was going.  Quatre neglected to tell him.  He almost hoped for an apartment…there were no ghosts in hotels, right?

Heero kept looking back through the mirror at Duo, finding the odd silence in the car increasingly uncomfortable.  It seemed that Duo was completely back to normal after getting a good night's rest.  The happy pilot had appeared early that morning, a smile on his face, and a wave in greeting.  But when he had learned that they were moving, a frown emerged so long that lines had appeared in the corners of his mouth.  Duo was _not happy with the vote to move; he wanted to stay.  But why?  Why would he want to stay with a place that just reminded the rest of them of pain?  Especially when they never felt any of the real damage?  It just didn't make sense…But then again, Duo never did.  Heero returned his eyes to the road.  And they still hadn't received any of the answers they were dying to hear…_

"Duo, how are your wrists?" Quatre asked.

"Fine," came the meek reply.

"Are you angry with us?"

"No."

"Then why-?"

"I don't feel like talking, Q."

Heero clenched his jaw for a split moment.  Didn't feel like talking, his ass.  They wanted the answers.  He felt like he was on a wild roller coaster ride and nobody was at the control panels.  He kept going through the loops and sharp turns that made his body ache from twisting so fast.  They were just picking up pace and Heero kept losing sight of the problem.  His mind was in a whirlwind; his eyes kept dilating as the world spun around him.  And the lack of controls that Heero was so fond of holding was driving the pilot mildly insane.  It was like Duo held all Heero's questions and answers in the pit of his hand and kept running away when Heero proceeded forward with the tiniest step.  He would run towards the darkness and disappear and when Heero pursued, the darkness would suddenly lash out with a life of its own and cause destruction to the small world the ex-Gundam pilots had made themselves in.  Anger began boiling up from the pit of his stomach.  Why wouldn't Duo let him help?  Why wouldn't he answer him, instead tilting his head to the side with dismissal?  God Damnit, it was NOT fair.  They deserved an answer.  Heero deserved one.

"Too bad," Heero barked out.  His eyes snapped to the mirror and he saw that Duo was now watching him, the passing scenery no longer an interest to him.  Confused lilac pools stared at him, at the mirror where his image was reflected.  Do I have your attention now, Duo? Heero thought.  Then don't turn away from me this time.  "Who did that to your wrists?"

In one second, Duo's face grew considerably paler and the purple eyes flicked back outside the window.  No answer breathed out of Duo's lips and the silence reigned upon the Gundam pilots again.  Quatre shifted nervously, Duo's body growing tense against his arm.  Please don't push him, Heero…Quatre thought.

"Answer me," Heero ordered, his nasal tone voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

"…No one," came Duo's weak answer and Quatre watched as his body slumped heavily against the seat, head slowly lowering.

"Did you do it then?" Heero's voice was so incredibly cold…

"No…" Duo's answer came again.  Heero's mouth opened again, his eyes burning with controlled anger.

"Look!" Quatre screamed suddenly deliberately taking the subject off course.  With a trembling finger, the waves of intense emotions crashing around them in the tiny jeep, he pointed out the window.  "There's our new house, Duo!"

Duo, obviously thankful for the distraction, looked up and his body relaxed like a rubber band being released.  He watched the two-story light blue house get closer and closer, momentarily forgetting Heero and his quarrel.  But the perfect pilot didn't.  He, instead, glared even daggers at Quatre through the mirror, a firm frown pulling down his lip.  But he said nothing more, pulling the dirty red jeep into the driveway and came to a stop.  At the cue of the engine turning off, all the pilots piled out of the car and stared up at their new home.

"This seems like a nicer place," Wufei commented quietly.  Everyone else seemed to agree and they eagerly moved forward to check out their new house, leaving their clothes in the car to collect later.  But it only took a second for them all to realize that they were one pilot short and together they looked back to see Duo still by his car door.  Again, it took only another second to see that Duo was _not all right.  Upon closer inspection, they noticed that Duo's fists were closed tight and turning pale to white.  A trickle of blood dripped down his left knuckle, his fresh bandages that was white a moment ago now a deep nearly black crimson.  Duo stared, transfixed, at the house before them.  The light had faded from his endless lilac pools and replaced with wide, ghostly eyes that quivered in paralyzed fear._

Trowa followed Duo's gaze, looking up at the second floor and seeing absolutely nothing but a few windows with long curtains peeking out from the side.  When he looked back, Duo was shaking his head and clawing at the car door handle while he stared endlessly at the window of the second floor.

"No, no, I don't wanna live here," Duo said repeatedly, his hand trembling so hard that he couldn't get his fingers to close in on the handle.  He was blinking rapidly, as if trying to break the hold that held his gaze, but could not.

"Duo," Quatre said, alarmed.  "What's wrong?  Duo?"

"No, no, I don't wanna live here…" Duo kept repeating and finally the car door was opened.  Duo was crawling back into the car when Heero ran over and grabbed his arm and pulled him roughly back outside.  And then Duo did something no one would have expected…

He started screaming bloody murder and lashed out with all his strength at Heero.

"NO, NO!" Duo screamed with all his might.  "DON'T MAKE ME LIVE HERE!!!"

"Maxwell, stop!" Wufei screamed and started forward to catch Duo.  Heero was grunting as he struggled to hold onto the screaming, writhing, and clawing Duo Maxwell. The Shinigami maniac fighting Heero like a madman.  Cuts had appeared on the perfectionist's arms as Duo clawed him with his nails.  Heero stumbled as the ex-pilot kicked him repeatedly in the legs.  He would just not hold still!  Suddenly, Wufei was there and clasped onto the screaming Duo.  And soon, that's all he was able to do but beg as his energy ran out and his blood ran freely from the damp bandages on his wrists.

"Don't…" Duo whimpered.  His eyes were closed firmly.  "You don't understand…"

"Hurry, get him into the house," Quatre ordered.  "We have to change those things."

Wufei and Heero moved together and carried the whimpering Duo into the house.  The door creaked as it opened and Duo made a faint gurgle in his throat as he passed into the closed room of the entrance hall.  It was a sound of defeat.

*****

Heero brushed his hand against the knob.

Cold, so cold.

"Duo!? DUO!!!"

He couldn't open it.

"DUO!!!"

Screaming, screaming, endless screaming.

"You fucker!!! Whose in there?!  Stop it!!!!"

A creeping white flame licking at Heero's feet.

"Duo!!!! DUO!!!!"

It was so damn cold…

Click.  The door unlocked.

*****

Heero awoke with a start; eyes snapping open from his nightmare.  His blanket had been tossed away from him in his dream and he shivered violently.  The temperature had dropped considerably in his room over the night and hastily, he brought the white sheets back up around his nearly nude body.  Sighing, he rubbed his forehead.

Weird dream.  He could barely recall it now…But…

Heero sighed again and turned away from the wall to his other side, curling up into a ball to keep warm.  It took him a moment to realize until he noticed someone was standing in his doorway.

Heero jerked up, hand crawling under his pillow to get his gun before he realized that he hadn't unpacked it yet and cursed.  The dark form shifted uneasily for a moment before it stepped into the room.  The shadows seemed to have melted off of it as the light of the moon immediately caught the flowing locks and lit the silky strands like a match to its flame.  Duo stood barefoot, nude besides the low-rider boxers, and absolutely helpless looking in Heero's new bedroom.  The moon kissed the Shinigami pilot with silvery lips as his whole body seemed to glow in the eerie of the night.

Heero blinked frantically for two minutes. 

Duo coughed, he seemed timid and scared as he stared at the floor below him.  "H-Heero…Can I…Can I sleep with you tonight…?"

Heero's shock took over again and he stared at the pilot with a blank face.  Duo glanced up then looked away quickly and turned away, strands of brown flying behind him.  Before he could take a rapid retreat from the room though, Heero called him back.

"Get in, baka," Heero ordered.  Duo looked over his shoulder to see that Heero had pulled back the blankets to let in his comrade and he smiled, a real, genuine happy smile.  Immediately, Duo rushed over and leapt in under the covers as Heero settled back into the bed.

"Heero…?"

"Hmm…?"

"Can I get closer?"

Heero looked over slowly and nodded mutely.  Duo smiled yet again, full and bright, and scooted closer.  Or, let's say, a lot closer that their bare skin touched and rubbed together.  Heero held back the urge to bite his bottom lip and his eyes slipped close.  Duo Maxwell was in his bed and CUDDLING with him.  Dear God, he hoped Duo believed he had his gun in bed or else Heero wouldn't be able to explain what was poking him throughout the night.  Just the thought that Duo's bare, strong and warm flesh was rubbing up - Wait a second.

"Duo…?

"Uh huh?"

"Why are you so cold…?" 

Duo was silent for a long time, staring at the ceiling with glazed, false eyes.  Then slowly, he looked over at Heero, his face a mask of abandon.

"I was…standing out there a long time…" Duo answered quietly.  Heero blinked at Duo before, without any thought, wrapped an arm around Duo's shoulders and pulled him closer.  Freezing skin touched his warm body and Heero shivered momentarily. 

"Obviously," Heero said.  Duo sighed and rolled to his side, facing Heero, and curled up to the warm blanket aka Heero Yuy with an arm laying itself on his stomach and chest.  Duo's face became buried in Heero's skin, cold nose burning into the hot flesh.  So, perhaps, it wasn't one of Heero's best moments being a heater but at least he was able to touch Duo…

Heero's hold suddenly tightened as he noticed that Duo was beginning to shiver violently from time to time.  It wasn't the normal shiver though…No, Heero knew this shiver.  It was like Quatre's hands that kept shuddering, fear lancing and tensing his quivering digits.  It was the tremor your body would get as you contained the tears that fought to break your eyes and spill free.  It was the tremble in the voice when you saw something so horrible, so mind and body numbing, that your voice wouldn't quite corporate with you.  Heero knew these feelings all too well.  He remembered how hard his fingers would shake as he wrapped those dressings around Duo's wrist for the first time.  He remembered how hard his body quivered against the cabinets, curled up into a tight ball, with the steam choking his voice and licking at the tears that ran down his face after he had found Duo.  And how hard it was to maintain control again in front of his fellow pilots, to stop his shaking, when all he wanted to do was be alone and…die.

"Duo…?"

No answer.

"Duo…?"

He didn't reply.

"Duo…"

A violent shudder and still no answer.

"Duo…Why…Why wont you tell me what's wrong…?"

And yet again, Duo didn't answer him.  Heero's fingers dug into the blanket and he closed his eyes so tight that he saw stars behind them.  But it didn't keep back the salt water that slammed against his shields and slowly leaked free.

TBC…  


	10. The Truth

Title: Tainted Conviction - Part Nine

Author: Sita Seraph

Genre: Angst, Religious relatings

Pairing: 1x2 eventually.

Rated: R

Warning: Gruesome treatment, stigmata, sixth sense, and a whole lot of shit.

They say wars are cruel and heartless.  They say war is a killer and brings nothing but despair in its wake.  They say they want to stop the fighting but they can't. They always have something to fight for, whether good or bad.  They believe in the things they want to.  No one forces them.  They fight because they choose to.  No one tells them.  If they were so eager to stop fighting, then why does murder still reign on?  Why does death still breathe down his neck? 

Duo walked quietly to the window, a faint trace of deja vu washing over him.  But this window was different.  Not the same as his old window, where the ocean of tree tops grazed outside in the mountains.  This one was smaller, compact, and cold looking.  The eye of the world, that's what it, was.  And the world was a cold, cruel place, bent on trying to destroy and receive.  Even in this time of peace, there were still needless deaths, unexplained suicides, and horror all around them.  They couldn't escape it if they fought it; they couldn't ignore it if they closed their eyes.  It was always there, the forbidden darkness weighing over them all, the world, like the shadow of death.  And all this suffering because of one single fact:

They were humans.

Duo sighed, staring out the window but seeing nothing.  The lights of the neighborhood were void and smoldered in the darkness of night.  All he saw was his reflection in the mirror of the glass.  Eyes that were sullen and lost in the shadows of his soul.  No light could penetrate the endless pits of violet no longer.  His body was frail and pale, the sun not kissing his skin in the longest of time.  It was like he had been locked up in himself, locked in this dreadfully cold and horrible house, where not even the sun's rays could penetrate its obscurity.  Once his pride and joy, his hair was tangled and dull looking.  He hated it.  He hated everything.  In only a week, his whole world had been flipped over and now it seemed like he was on the other side of his mirror, seeing things no one would ever hear or see.  They kept on whispering to him, they kept on touching him with their cold lifeless fingertips.  Death.  Death was all he could see now and the horror of all the agony that they went through.  Everything he touched…everything he saw…everything he heard…it was no longer the same.  Nothing held any sort of joy anymore.  He had seen so much in the past few days that he was shocked to find he even had the strength to rise out of bed anymore.

Duo shut his eyes tightly and bit his bottom lip, tears willing themselves up from their bottomless depth and over the edge. Trickle, trickle.  One by one a tear would slip through his tightly closed eyelids, shedding the pain and misery he felt every moment of every day.  His eyes opened and more spilled forth, the dam that once had kept them back opening up to let them rush through.  He looked at his reflection again and all he saw was pain and agony.  His eyes had gotten red inside and out, as if his tears caused his eyes to bleed.  A sniffle and sob broke through the silence of Heero's room and with a shaky breath Duo reached into boxer's pocket.  There was the rattle of a chain against metal before Duo looked down at what he clutched tightly in his hand.

His cross.

Duo stared at the golden symbol in his hand for a moment finding some peace in his shattering soul.  A tear slipped free from his chin and bounced upon the fair emblem, the spell breaking as reality returned yet again.  

Slowly, Duo reached out with his free hand and raised the window.  Cold air briskly passed his legs but cold was nothing now but a numbing feeling.  Still staring at the cross in his hand, Duo clutched the crest tighter in his fist.

"You are so powerful," Duo whispered to no one.  "You tell us to walk in the path of light, but you don't realize that there is no light.  The Earth succumbed to darkness a long time ago, before wars.  You tell us to be innocent but innocence is destroyed at birth.  You are so powerful.  And yet, you can't fucking help us." 

Slowly, Duo turned his violet gaze outside the window, his hand trembling in his closed fingers, making the chain sway.

"You tell me to believe in you," he said to the darkness.  "But I have no reason.  You just give me pain.  You tell me to believe in you.  Well, I say fuck you."

Duo gave a sudden flick of his wrist and a golden flash caught his gaze as his emblem flew out the window and into the darkness.  With finality, Duo took both hands on the window and slammed it shut. 

He smirked at his reflection.  "I'll never believe."

*****

Heero watched the other's faces about the room, sitting uncomfortably on the new couch Quatre had insisted on buying for reasons unknown.  The dark leather kept crinkling under him every time he shifted, making the only sound in the room.  It was annoying, to say the least, and he kept getting glances every time he stirred.  Quatre stood in the middle of the room, hands playing with a little golden item in his hand.  Wufei was sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking straight ahead out the window, as if he was seeing something no one else could see, a world beyond their reach.  An expression of neutrality rested on his tough features, trails of black silk falling to frame his face.  Trowa was on the other side of the room, arms crossed as always, as he leaned against the wall in a normal fashion.  His gaze was fixed upon the floor, a blank interest behind his leaf green eyes.

Behind them all, near the door, were stacks of boxes filled with clothes and misc. items.  A baseball bat was lying on its side next to a beaten box with the words 'Shinigami' on each side.

There was bounding as Duo ran down the stairs.

"Heero!  Why didn't you wake me up!?" Duo screamed before he came into the room.  He stopped short when he noticed everyone was assembled in the living room.  Only one person acknowledged his existence physically.  Quatre looked up at Duo slowly and Duo stared at him with confusion.

"…What's up?" Duo asked in a casual tone.  Heero cringed.  For Heaven's sake, he still tried to act like nothing was wrong.  It was beginning to get on his nerves… 

Mutely, Quatre walked over and held out his hand.  Duo, still confused, held out his as well and Quatre let loose the item in his hand.  There was a golden flash before Duo's cross landed silently in the palm of his hand.  The Shinigami pilot stared at it long and hard, as if he never saw a cross before in his entire life and had a perplexed interest in it.  Then slowly, he raised his eyes to Quatre and his expression changed to that of a neutral expression, mirroring Wufei who was now watching him. Slowly, Duo tilted his hand.

The cross gave a clank as it landed on the wooden floor.

Quatre's gaze followed the cross, confused, but Duo walked past without a second glance and went towards his box of clothes.  He scooped down and picked up his bat, turning around at the same time.  He stalked back, the wooden weapon rising and Quatre stumbled back with wide eyes.  Duo held his weapon of choice in the air over his head, eyes burning into Quatre as if he meant to strike him.  Heero launched from his seat but it was too late to stop Duo's blow.

SLAM! The bat pounded soundly on the cross, laying innocently on the ground and it bent in the middle.  Duo raised the bat again and it slammed down a second time.  And again.  And again.  The four Gundam pilots watched in horror as Duo kept striking his prized possession, his cross of fortune, until it was just a hump of broken metal.  Sighing, Duo carelessly tossed his bat aside, glanced at Quatre, and turned around to head for the kitchen.  His plans were cut short, however, because Heero was standing directly behind him.  His hands closed in on the ex-Gundam's forearms and pulled him close, anger seething off his breath.

"What was that about!?" Heero whispered furiously under his breath.

Duo stared at him, unmoved.  "I hate it."

"I don't understand you!" Heero whispered, voice getting louder.  "What's wrong with you!?"

"What's wrong with me?" Duo repeated, almost calm.  Almost.  "What's wrong with me?" His voice kept getting higher.  "What's wrong with me!?"  Duo screamed in rage.  "What's. Wrong.  With.  Me!?!"

Duo shoved Heero away hard, making the Wing pilot stumble back.  The back of his knees encountered the coffee table and he lost his balance, sitting hard on the wooden surface.  Duo strode over, waving his hands hysterically. 

"Nothing is WRONG with ME!" Duo screamed, getting right in Heero's face like the Wing pilot had done before.  "What?  Am I little pale for you, Heero?  Do I look sick!?"

Duo's words tumbled out in a mad rush, not even pausing for breath.

"Huh!?  HUH!?"

"Who did that to your wrists!?!" Heero screamed back.  This time, Duo didn't grow any paler.  This time, Duo didn't hide his face in shame.  This time, Duo didn't look for help to dodge the sensitive subject.

Instead, he began to unwrap one of his bandages as he went on.  "Do you really want to know, Heero?  Are you just dying to figure out how fucked I am?"

The bandage fell to the ground and Duo backed away, holding up wrist like some trophy.  Everyone saw.  Quatre made some sort of noise and revolted back against the wall beside Trowa, covering his mouth with sickness tearing at his eyes.  Trowa gazed at the wound, the light slipping through the hole in his bloodied wrist to shine the glinting bloody muscle within.  Wufei held his face in his hands, fingers tearing into his hair as if to maintain some control…or his lunch.

"See?!" Duo screamed, shrill.  "See what he's done to me!?!"

"Who, Duo?  Who?" Quatre begged, sorrow and fear in his eyes.  Tears were brimming in the bottom of his eyes and he clutched his shirt desperately, as if for some sort of strength.

"HIM!" Duo screamed, rage burning in his eyes and he scooped up his crumbled cross and chucked it hard at Quatre.  The frail boy squeaked and dodged the sharp medal, falling into Trowa's arms and chest for protection.  The broken cross made a little sound as it hit the wall then the floor.

"What?" Trowa muttered quietly, holding a trembling Quatre and staring down at the cross on the floor. 

"The man that dares to call himself the creator of mankind!" Duo screamed sarcasm dripping from his voice with his last remaining strength.  His voice echoed off the walls and met silence as all eyes were turned towards him.  Duo stared at each one of them, still tense, but panting heavily from his outburst.  Quatre still stayed in Trowa's comforting arms, an eye peeking out around his friend's arm to watch Duo tremble, sigh, and lift his hands into his hair to tug roughly at his bangs.  But even if most of his hands covered his face, the hole in the revealed wrist beamed through to show a bit of his cheek.  Quatre was in need of a toilet right now.

"He's punishing me," Duo whispered into the silent room, all of them immobile in shock.  "My motorcycle…I was riding along and I dodged a deer that came in front of me and…and I drove over the edge.

"A guy spoke to me.  Told me I was dead and stuck between heaven and hell because they didn't know where to put me.  I was dead…He asked me if I believed in God…I told him no…"

Duo was suddenly deeply quiet, the balls of his palms pressing hard into his closed eyes.  Everyone was watching him, their stares eating away at him, and it was all he could do but blow up on them again.  They thought he was crazy, whacko, off his rocker.  Maybe he was in some cases.  He lost a bit of his sanity when he lost a bit of his wrists.

Suddenly, Wufei spoke, "What then, Max-Duo?"

Duo's head jerked free from his hands and he looked over at Wufei who was watching him with the most intense eyes.  But they accused him of nothing, made no judgment of him yet.  They just stared, urging him on with those hollow depths.  Duo would have smiled, if he felt the joy.  At least one of them might believe him…

"He…gave me a choice," Duo continued softly, keeping his eyes glued on the encouraging black holes.  "To stay and rot or come back and face consequences.  He said…eyes unclouded, mind unshielded, and body of an unholy virgin…"

"The day you were throwing up…" Wufei started.

"I was losing the blood that would have surrounded my body the next day when you would find me," Duo finished, hands beginning to lower.

"The holes…"

"Stigmata.  I don't think you guys know about it.  But it's suppose to be for very loyal God followers…" 

Duo couldn't suppress the snicker.

"How do we know that you didn't do this to yourself?" A new voice asked.  Duo's rage began to boil again and he turned towards Heero who had asked the question.  Wufei glared at Heero, muttering idiot under his breath, but Duo blocked him out as rage spilled over his senses.  'How COULD I do this!?' Duo screamed.  'Thinking I was crazy is better because at least you are on the right track!  But doing all of this to myself!?'

"How could you think that?!" Duo accused.  "Damnit Heero!  Do I look like a person who would cause harm, never mind have the strength, to do that to myself!?  I'm not crazy!"

"We didn't say that," Heero said quietly.

"But you're thinking it!" Duo raged.  "If I believe in God, he'll stop this!  If I believe in him, this will all go away!"

"Why don't you?" Quatre asked quietly from the corner of the room.

Duo gave a cold chuckle and raised cool fingertips to his forehead as he closed his eyes to rub it like he had a headache.  A mad grin was stuck on his face, twisting his expression into that of total mad amusement.

"Why…?" Duo said, a calm, soothing voice filling the dead air.  "Does it all make you guys feel better if you think there is some Almighty Being watching over you?  Do you feel safe and warm when you think He's going to protect you?"

Silence met his answer.

"Foolish thoughts," Duo continued, his voice getting quieter.  "God isn't real.  He's some fucker that sits back and enjoys our pain.  We set up this whole image of him being the nice guy." A low, mad chuckle.  "I've seen a honest man lie.  I've seen a rich man beg.  I've seen a soldier cry.  And here you go and tell me that God, who made us Humans the way we are, is going to be some Holy being that will kiss our wounds away."

No one spoke up.  The air was dead, cold, and breathless.  Duo shuddered and he raised his revealed wrist to his face, staring right through the broken hole that began to drip with red venom.  There was a broken sob and Duo looked up from his hypnotizing wrist to Quatre who was crying softly into Trowa's chest.  He watched, entranced at the glistening, beautiful tears gracing itself one by one down the frail man's cheek.

Oh, Christ, what if he was right? Quatre thought.  What if there was no light?  What if there was no hope, no warmth, no love?  What if it was all lust, pain, regret, and sorrow?  

"Duo…" Quatre cried out softly, muffled into Trowa's chest.

"Well, you know what I say, Quat?" Duo said softly.  "I say fuck you, God. Fuck you…FUCK. YOU!"

Duo whirled away from everyone as if to storm out of the room but suddenly there was a hiss and snap and Duo stumbled forward, crying out.  Wufei watched with wide eyes, as Duo was about to fall over him but suddenly jerked back, hands flying up over his head and crossing at the wrists and stood up on his tiptoes.  There was a hiss then a WHACK and Duo stretched out in the air, lurching forward with all his might but his hands would not budge from their position in the air.

WHOOOOOCHU!

Duo cried out in pain.

Quatre screamed and cried into Trowa's arms, holding onto his friend as he watched Duo's shirt become torn with each rise of some invisible force and blood seeped into view as the skin broke.  

Hiss.

CRACK! 

A cry of pain.

"Duo!" Heero cried out, wishing to move but finding he couldn't.  He didn't know if something was holding him down or if he was in so much shock that his body would not willingly move.  All he could do was cry out as Duo's shirt slowly became nothing but shreds.

"Duo!  Duo!  Duo!" 

The pilots heard the oncoming blow each time, even if they couldn't see it.  The sound of a whip flying had an unmistakable hiss through the air.  And then it would strike, a river of red appearing on Duo's ruby back.

Hissssss….

CRACK!!!!

"God, stop it!" Wufei screamed loudly.

WHOOOOOOCHU!

But it would not stop.  Seven heavy blows graced itself upon the Shinigami pilot's back and still they continued to reign on, beating Duo repeatively, over and over again…

Quatre turned his head away, a horrified sob escaping his throat.  He just couldn't watch it anymore…

CRACK!!!!

Trowa drew Quatre closer, emblem eyes watching on…

CRACK!!!!

"DUO!!!" Heero cried, struggling against the force that held him down.

CRACK!!!!

Wufei reached out, screaming out curses and pleas for it all to end…

CRACK!!!!

CRACK!!!!!!!!!

CRACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The sound echoed off the walls…

And suddenly Duo's arms fell free from the sky that held them and slumped to his sides. Empty eyes, brimming with tears that began to fall, stared across the room.  Everything was suddenly in slow motion, glistening tears moving lifelessly down his skin.  Thump.  Duo's knees connected with wood and he fell forward onto his hands.  His whole body started trembling in pain and his voice was wracked with heavy sobs, breaking the silence that the whip had left behind.  Drip.  Tears began to fall upon the wooden surface.

Heero could suddenly move and he flew to Duo's side and reached out.  But his hands were smacked away from Duo who cried harder, body shaking harder.

"Don't…" Duo whispered, sucking in deep breaths and choking on them, along with his tears that wetted his chapped lips.  Heero stared dumbfounded at Duo, wishing to help but being gently pushed away.  Slowly, Duo straightened his wobbly arms and his sniffles and choked breath grew clear for a moment.

"Fu…Fuck…You…God…" Duo grounded out.

Hisssssss…

CRACK!!!

Duo cried out then collapsed all together as the last blow danced across his bleeding and wounded back.  Empty eyes stared out into nothingness as he slowly lost consciousness.

"Duo!"


	11. Locked Behind

Title: Tainted Conviction – Part Ten

Author: Sita Seraph

Genre: Angst, Religious relatings

Pairing: 1x2 eventually.

Rated: R

Warning: Gruesome treatment, stigmata, sixth sense, and a whole lot of shit.

          Note: *heavy sigh* I don't feel very creative at all with this story at the moment…*stares at the words* I think I need some constructive reviews?  Like maybe 'you could correct this and that' stuff?  That fuels my writing a lot.  I feel depressed from writer's block…Help me…

Trowa stared at the tissues scattered across the kitchen table, wadded up and thrown aside like frustrating homework.  A man's broken sobs were the only sound in the room, in the whole house, as Quatre continued to cry with all of his worth.  Trowa watched his friend from across the table as he rocked back and forth in his seat, one hand wrapped around his trembling form and the other with a tissue that kept wiping at his face as tears spilled forth.  His cheeks were red, his eyes swollen and his eyebrows forcefully down over his closed eyelids.  Choked sobs kept throwing up from his throat, making a little cry of internal pain and his body continually shuddered.

A toss of a tissue and Quatre jerked another free from the box next to him.

He had been crying from the same force for a half an hour now, the pain deep and his well of tears endless.  Trowa didn't know what to do, what to say.  He couldn't say everything was going to be all right because he didn't know if it ever would be.  Duo was beginning to lose his mind, that fact was obvious.  His moods would shift too quickly for him to be a sane, normal being.  He even believed the God was punishing him.  God.  An invisible entity.  Angels.  Where would he get such an idea?  Why?  Why would Duo think he needed to be punished?

Because one person out of thousands didn't believe?  Why punish him?  Why did He strike now?  What had Duo done to made God so furious with him that His own hand would strike a low human being?  It didn't make sense.  It had no purpose, no right, no…honor.  The thought was insane.

Yet…Who could explain the tiding that had befallen them?  Who could explain the wounds on Duo's wrists?  Who could explain…what happened an hour ago?  It was too much.  Too much to accept, to believe.  But…what if Duo was right?

Did we Humans make God look all-powerful and full of love because we wanted something to believe in?  Were we so scared in our first steps into our world that we needed something to encourage us as we walked in the darkness?  Was God some being that enjoyed our pain and sorrow?  Had we made everything up like little children and their ghost stories?  It was a frightening, terrifying thought.  That darkness never met light. That when you died, there was nothing comforting in the end of the tunnel.  

Quatre sobbed again and Trowa stared long and hard at his friend.  He was suffering like Duo, taking all the blame upon himself.  Trowa couldn't just sit around and watch Quatre blame himself for everything.  He wanted to help but he didn't know how.  What if he made it worse…?

_If you hesitant in battle, it will change the outcome of the war._

Trowa gave a soft sigh into the broken air and moved off his seat.  Walking silently to his friend's side, he knelt down, watching Quatre from a different perspective.  Tears ran free sometimes, dodging the tissue and falling onto his comrade's lap.  Quatre didn't notice his presence immediately and it gave time for Trowa to reach out and nudge Quatre's chin.  The tissue fell away from his red face and he looked up, tears falling like waterfalls over his cheeks.  A sob bubbled past Quatre's lips and his eyes watered more as his blue orbs met Trowa's.  He raised his tissue to wipe away the hints of his pain again but Trowa's free hand caught his wrist.

Quatre stared confused at him.

Slowly, Trowa, without thinking, leaned forward and started kissing his tears away.  Salt water littered past the silent pilot's lips and into his mouth.  With a thirsty throat, Trowa doubled his efforts and kissed each section of Quatre's innocent cheeks.

Quatre didn't move away.  He watched Trowa with wide, blurry eyes as his smooth mouth touched his burning skin, kissing away his pain.  More tears fell from his eyes but he didn't seem to notice as they were quickly sucked and kissed away.

His cheeks didn't burn quite as much anymore.

"T-Trowa…" Quatre whispered softly and Trowa pulled back, just barely.  Green embers burned into his eyes, inches from his face.  Quatre lifted a heavy hand, mesmerized by jade orbs in front of him.  His fingertips encountered soft skin of Trowa's cheek and he caressed, running his curious fingers into his hair.  They must have sat there for a few minutes, the world passing them by in a matter of seconds.  Heavy brown silk covered Quatre's fingers and he sighed softly, a crushing feeling wrapping around his heart.  He stared at Trowa, heart beating against the crushing force encased around it, and watched as the silent pilot slowly leant forward.  The innocent pilot let his eyes slip close but green jewels still shone through the blackness behind his eyelids.  He felt Trowa's breath upon his lips and knew he was drawing closer, ever so closer.

Skin brushed skin when suddenly they were interrupted

Quatre's head jerked up with Trowa's, eyes incredibly wide, as Duo's horrified, painful scream broke through the silence of the house.

*****

Heero pounded up the stairs, taking two at a time, and quickly heard the footsteps of his companions following.  Not taking a breath to wait for them, Heero followed the endless screaming to its source at the middle of the hall, to a closed bedroom.

Heero's bedroom.

Heero skidded to a stop in front of the wooden door and stared transfixed with horror-filled eyes as screaming spilled forth from inside.  The owner of the voice barely paused for breath, never lost its volume, before it began all over again with the same note.  It was like a broken record, playing over and over again and never stopping.

"Duo!!" Quatre cried, nearly running into the immobile Heero Yuy.  Wufei's hand reached out and grabbed the knob.  But suddenly he stumbled back with a ring of curses, gripping his hand.

"Wufei?" Quatre called.

Slowly, Wufei raised his fingertips to show his companions.  Beaten red beamed up at them, cold frost lingering at his fingertips.  What kind of magic was this? Wufei thought, staring at his frozen hand.  It was funny; it didn't even hurt anymore.  Just numb and tingly…

Heero stared hard at the golden knob.  Upon closer inspection, just around the edges, frost lined the yellow hued handle and melted into the door.  Heero glanced secondly at Quatre who had his ears covered tightly and was screaming out Duo's name.  But over the cries, everything was mute.  Heero's ears were ringing and if Wufei had yelled into his ear this very moment, he still wouldn't be able to hear him.  Trowa stood by, uncertainty tainting his features.  So, it was basically up to Heero.

The perfect pilot took a deep breath, braced himself, and then ran forward, slamming himself into the door.

He had never heard anything like it.  The screams.  Filled with unbelievable pain, unspeakable horror.  It rang in their ears; it sang down the hall, it made shuddered the whole house.  The cries of torture had reached deep into Quatre's gut and seemed to be squeezing it with teasing, pain-giddy fingers.  Duo's bawls came out loud and strong, coming up to a pitch not even Relena could imitate.  The yells spoke of a man wishing with all his might for death; anything but what was being forced upon him.  Quatre couldn't help but see nothing but red.  Duo's blood being splayed across the walls.  Hate and pain burning through the walls of chestnut and stands of russet lying naked across the floor.

SLAM! Quatre's eyes broke free from his wild imagination as Heero threw all his strength into the door.  It didn't crash open.  It didn't bend.  It didn't even make a creak.  The door stayed a perfect guard to the tortured man behind. 

Heero stumbled back, gripping his sore arm, and anger began to burn at his throat.  Duo, so close, was just beyond his reach.  And he couldn't even get past a fucking door.  Fury began to choke off Heero's air, making him gasp for air.  Again, he threw himself at the door and it didn't even budge.  He felt like he was an ant trying to make a stone ten times bigger than he.  Frustration.

"You fucker!!! Whose in there?!  Stop it!!!!" Heero exploded.

Screaming, screaming, endless screaming.

"DUO!!!!" Heero shouted and started punching the door for all its damn faults, for keeping him locked away from his treasure on the other side of the door.  He had to do something; he had to stop it all!  He was the perfect soldier, he could do anything!  No DOOR could trap his Duo away!!!

And then it hit him.

Heero gave a last punch with his abused fists and caught his breath, staring at the wooden fabrics of the door before him.

"DUO!!!!" Heero screamed with all his might, trying to override the cries from inside.  "MY GUN, DUO!!!! GET MY GUN!!!!"

And for a split second, the screaming stopped, leaving the closed-off pilots ears ringing and heads pounding.  But that was all.  Until the silence was broken again.

BAM!BAM!

Heero blinked in shock as two identical holes appeared on either side of his face, burning wood wafting up on his cheek.  The bullets had missed him by a centimeter each.  But that didn't mean they didn't catch a different target.

Heero whipped his head around just in time to watch Trowa fall, clutching his bleeding shoulder.  Blood splattered across the wall behind him and Heero watched, fascinated, as Trowa's usual blank face was covered in complete and utter shock.  He stared across the hall in a daze and Quatre let out a cry, falling next to his sitting companion.

"Trowa!" Quatre cried.

Sometime after the bullets, the screaming had started up again.  Time seemed to be frozen in space, the smell of bloodshed in the air and fearful cries coming from the room beyond their reach.  Then came the second scream. 

Wufei's head whipped up as an animal like wail screeched through the entire house and probably beyond.  No human could make such a howl, as the pitch was beyond the highest reach.  It was like nails digging into chalkboard and Wufei's heart thumped hard in his chest.  His ears had to be bleeding by now, ringing and hurting like Heero's beam cannon had been blasted right near his ear.  The scream was short though but it had left something in its wake.  Wufei's head began to swim and he lowered his head to calm the spinning room.  His head felt so heavy, so dizzy.  Something suddenly caught his eye and Wufei forced his eyes to look beyond the haze to a flickering white light seeping free from under the door.  It was like a white flame…licking at Heero's feet.  Wufei's eyes widened.

"Heero!"

Heero looked over at Wufei then turned his head around to look at the door.  Too late.  There was a blast of light, so bright that Heero knew he had to have gone blind.  He tried to lift his hands to brace from the oncoming blow but they seemed frozen in place.  The screaming had gotten louder.

Quatre watched with wide eyes as a flash of light appeared and Heero's form became nothing but a silhouette in the halo of light.  Then suddenly, he was flying through the air, arms finally lifting to shield himself but it was too late.

SLAM!!!!!!!!

Heero's body had twisted in mid air and collided with the wall.  A deep dent broke into the wall, leaving a crater in its wake, and cracks to run up along the wall.  And as if in slow motion, Heero fell from the wall, falling limply upon the ground with a slump as particles of dust and barrage came down with him.  Paint debris rain over his limp form as Heero remained immobile on the floor.  The screaming had stopped upon impact.

"HEERO!!!" Quatre screamed.

Click.

                The door slid open.


	12. Replay

Title: Tainted Conviction – Part Eleven

Author: Sita Seraph

Genre: Angst, Religious relatings

Pairing: 1x2 eventually.

Rated: R

Warning: Gruesome treatment, stigmata, sixth sense, and a whole lot of shit.****

**WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: Rape!  YAY! *waves flags then gets glares and slinks away* Umm…**

Wufei watched the door creak open with wide eyes, hands resting upon the debris-covered Heero.  Sunlight fluttered out slowly into the dark hallway, stretching its fingertips across the carpet.  It reached the startled, and deeply silent, Gundam pilots, kissing their skin with its golden glow.  The unspoken void rested over their heads, which were all pounding with intense pain, and only the heavy huffs from Heero met the still air.

"You guys?" Quatre whispered, as if afraid to break the solitude.  "Are you all right?"

Trowa gave a curt nod; hand over his bleeding shoulder and a look of indifference masked upon his face.  Wufei glanced at his hand…it didn't hurt anymore…

"I think Heero might-," Wufei started.

"I'm…fine," Heero stated from the ground and Wufei looked over.  Heero's eyes were squinted against the light that was brimming across them, his usual dark cobalt eyes turning into unmistakably sky blue.  The light seemed to love Heero's skin, touching it like gentle silk and envious fingertips.  His tan skin seemed to glow in the afternoon light…odd… 

Heero slowly pushed himself off the floor; chucks of the wall falling off his skin like rain.  He brushed away the dust from his eyes, looking towards the open, silent bedroom.  Duo…

Heero felt so weird.  He couldn't feel anything in his body; it was like everything was numb.  He couldn't feel himself reaching across the hallway to brush away the door blocking his way.  He couldn't feel the wooden frame underneath his fingertips; he couldn't feel his feet moving across the ground.  He only felt…heavy.  Like there was an overbearing force pressing down on him.  He almost felt drugged, his mind hazy and the corner of his eyes blurry as if he was crying.   If he was, he couldn't feel it.  Heero walked into the sunlit room, the barren walls surrounding him like a cage.  Everything was deathly silent and still, like the very air had stopped moving in this peaceful moment of solitude.  But nothing was peaceful in this dead zone of a bedroom…

Quatre, who was trying to help Trowa, followed Heero slowly into the bright room.  The innocent pilot blinked around, the room nothing he had imagined; it seemed that everything was in its place, the golden sun shining its light through the window and warming everything up with its yellow touch.  It almost seemed like a normal day…except something was deeply out of place.

Quatre left Trowa's side and walked slowly to a threaded sheet that splayed out across the wooden floor.  Gingerly, he crouched down and ran his fingers through the cold sheet then picked it up with a small grimace.  Deep in the fabrics of white laid the color of dark crimson, a thick line trailing down the white terrain.  Quatre looked up from the grated sheet, thin white threads curling into Quatre's fingers as if they were clawed apart. He looked towards the bed.  It had been shoved against the corner of the room, sheets melting over the sides like sorrowful lovers.  Quatre looked at the exposed blood splattered on the pasty bedspread, the feathers of a torn pillow spilling across the shredded blood.  Some of them were licked with the ruby red, while others disappeared into the torn sheets.  Quatre slowly brought a hand to his lips, staring at the mess with widening eyes.  Fingers that streaked with crimson blood had reached for the wall to leave its messy mark, the desperate cry to stop the horror that had attacked him unaware. 

Hesitantly, Quatre began to reach out, eyes slipping closed as he pulled back the horrid sheets away from the bed.  He waited for some response; some sort of gasp, to signify that Duo was hidden under the mangled covers…but there was no sound.  Slowly, Quatre slipped open his eyes then quickly tore them away from something that was even worse than Duo's broken body covered in blood…

It was the long strands of auburn hair with bleeding red tips at one end.  Stands of chestnut that had been ruthlessly grabbed and torn from the skull like burning wax.  Automatically, Quatre's hand rose to his own soft, short locks of gold, closing his eyes against the imaginative pain he could feel screaming down the side of his head.  His breathing trembled; choking back tears that almost came up, and slipped open his eyes once again.  Slowly, he reached out and gently took hold of the locks of russet.

And gasped loudly, eyes widening, as images began to fill his mind.

*****

Duo was lying on the bed, staring straight at Quatre…or right through him.  He was tightly curled up, eyes incredibly wide in frozen fear and trembling.  He was whispering something, clutching the sheets until his fingers were white.  Quatre watched with fascination as blood appeared like a blossoming rose across the plain of white on Duo's wrist wounds.

"Duo?  What are you saying?" Quatre whispered, stepping forward.

"I told you not to leave me…I told you not to leave me…" Duo muttered into the cold air, over and over again… "I told you not to leave me… I told you not to leave me… I told you not to leave me…"

Quatre squeaked loudly as suddenly the bed was thrown and skidded across the floor.  Duo wailed and buried his face into the pillow, shoulders quivering with terror.

"Duo!" Quatre launched forward to protect his friend but suddenly he was pushed violently backwards, as if a force greater then he blocked his path.  He could only watch in fear, fighting against some invisible foe, as Duo was thrown onto his back and his head was tossed violently aside…the unforgettable sound of skin connecting with flexed bone radiating in the air.  Duo cried into his throat, refusing, always refusing, to just cry out.  Oh, God, if only he had screamed earlier and they could have…

Could have what, Quatre?  The pilots could have been standing right where Quatre was now…and be able to see the real thing besides the screams of intense pain from behind a locked door.

Duo was clawing at the sheets, whimpering but never crying out…until he was smacked again and a tiny, coughed cry escaped his dry lips.  How was this happening…!? Who was hitting him..!?  DUO!!

The sheets were torn away and the shred of clothing filled the air.  Quatre's eyes slowly widened even larger…

He could literally see the grip of fingers burying themselves into Duo's pasty skin.  The imprints of fingertips that dug so deep to make permanent bruises…they were clawing across his flesh, punching and hitting him into submission.  They brutally touched Duo's naked body everywhere, the deepening of skin as fingers pressed into him showing where they were marking Duo for life. And then those deep dents appeared on Duo's knees, squeezing them like putty, and forced the weakening thighs apart.  The Shinigami devotee lay exposed to the air, to the world of sin, in all his frightening glory.  His body was trembling in utter fear, limps so taunt in shock that he wouldn't be able to move them if he wished to… 

And…then started the screaming.  It just began as Quatre watched in horror, Duo's body thrusting into the air until only his shoulder blades and head still met mattress below him.  Duo started screaming bloody murder, his eyes snapping open to grow larger then ever before.  Something then started to pound…into Duo and Duo…Duo could only keep screaming as the indented depths printed themselves on his arms.  He could not fight the invisible force that brutally took him again and again…over and over…deepening himself into Duo that made him scream for death. 

Quatre didn't even realize he was screaming with his friend.

And then came the blood.  It dripped free from Duo's hindquarters, falling to the ground in silence.  Nothing could be heard over the cries.  Ruby droplets fell free from the Shinigami pilot, like tears that never shed from Duo's eyes.  Blood…as Duo's soul began to tear apart.

Suddenly, everything was like it was going fast forward.  Duo's head was twisting from side to side too fast, the creaking and pounding from the bed moving like they were going into the future.  It just seemed to add to the horror, the twisting of Duo's mournful body and the rape increasing its desperate search for a sinful climax.

Oh, God, it wasn't fair…

And then Quatre saw something different.  Flashes of images began to appear before his eyes, replacing the scene of the continuous rape and disappearing just as quickly.

Duo.

Stakes.

Cross.

Blood.

Dying.

Wall.

Blank.

……DUO!!!!!

*****

Trowa slowly walked towards Quatre's turned back, curious to why the innocent pilot had turned deathly silent when he had picked up the locks from the bed.  Slowly, pausing, Trowa placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder…

Quatre gasped, eyes snapping open, as he felt someone gently touch his shoulder.  The locks of bronze hair were clenched tightly within his grasp, making his hand quiver as if in fear.  Quatre looked over at Trowa, who had gently placed his hand on his comrade's shoulder, but he seemed unearthly.  Quatre felt like he was still in his dream, still locked up in the room where Duo had cried vainly for help.  The room felt so empty now, the sunlight turning cold and forbidden.  Trowa was watching him, questioning him…and Quatre looked away…

Towards the door.

He hoped it wasn't true.  Quatre stepped forward, the strands falling free from his grasp.

He begged he had just imagined it.  He was drawing nearer now, the door that had welcomed them in at long last shielding his truth.

He prayed to God that it was a dream.  Quatre could already see the blood leaking free from under the door.  Gently, the once-innocent pilot reached out and tapped the door aside and it silently tipped away, ever so slowly, the shadow of creeping darkness cast by the entry melting off the wall where sunshine could grow strong and reveal the truth.  The first thing that Quatre noticed was the garnet liquid that seeped down the wallboards, the graceful touch of the golden sun consuming it with its forever glow of light.  The blood was thick, yet shallow as it began a long puddle beneath its leaking waterfall.  

And then Quatre looked further, past the coursing rivers shivering their way down the barrier and to the man who cried the tears of red, gently dropping from the crown of his head and onto his face to imprint its trail down to his chin.  

To the wrists that was pinned to the wall by vicious stakes that soaked of hideous blood.

To the feet that crossed at the ankles and stabbed through by one long pledge, the tears of rubies shimmering down his toes.  

To the wound of retched jealously that bore the marking through his hip, digging in long to show off the muscles of claret underneath the colorless skin.  

To the hair that was tied in knots, clotting around the youthful, bruised body in its battered form, weeping with pain at the rough treatment it and its master had been portrayed.  

To the fingertips that had burned themselves into the skin of Duo Maxwell's body, the tones of blue, yellow, green, and brown that threaded themselves across his ugly, beaten skin.

To the death of the soul as empty violet eyes stared into the world with lost compassion, dying rage, wilting strength, and vanishing mind.

Quatre trembled.  He felt the tears.  He heard the shatter of his heart.  And then he screamed.

TBC…

Note: *screams* AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENS NEXT! *cackles then grows silent for…a moment before bursting into tears*  Writer's block…*weeps*

                I've started the next chapter but I'm just jumping around since I don't know what I want to do with it quite yet.  It might take some time to get out so please be patient.  Thank you all for your help on trying to improve my writing and the thorough support and encouragement for a continuous.  I read your reviews over and over again every day and I'm just so happy that so many of you guys enjoy this fic! *whole room lights up with her happiness* Please, if you like this story so much, read my other fic The Forsworn.  I'm pretty sure you will like it as well and if you don't, tell me why! *crosses fingers* Arigato, once again!  I love you all!!!

ACK!  And if you have any questions on the story, please e-mail me personally so I can get back to you!  I can't remember to write you back or remember half of them.  So if you are confused or just plain wanting to know something, please let me know!  I would love answering them!

-Sita Seraph


	13. We're Always Here

Title: Tainted Conviction – Part Twelve

Author: Sita Seraph

Genre: Angst, Religious relatings

Pairing: 1x2 eventually.

Rated: R

Warning: Gruesome treatment, stigmata, sixth sense, and a whole lot of shit.

Note: The story is almost done!  And then – a sequel!  Joy!  This whole story is being remodeled/revised with Ais-san's help, so if you have this on your favorites, when the REVISED is up in the summary, please read the better version!  Arigato, and now enjoy!

Summary: Duo has never been afraid of Death. But once he's tasted it, he finds that he doesn't enjoy it very much. So he is given a choice. Die and rot between heaven and hell. Or live and face the punishments of a non-believer. Yaoi.

The wailing of the sirens echoed across the neighborhoods as the ambulance buzzed down the street.  Like loyal peasants, cars moved to the side of the road, giving freedom to the wailing wagon.  Inside the ambulance was just as busy; a nurse and a doctor leaned heavily over the failing form on the bed.  Four other men were shoved to the front, where they wouldn't get in the way.  They watched, eyes sullen in their heads, as the saviors tried to work in the small space they were given.  Over and over, they barked orders to each other, dominating the sound of the loud beeping noise that was once pumping wildly for life, was slowly descending for death

"Get me that needle!"

"Hurry up!  Warm those up!"

"I need more bandages!"

"The bleeding has started again, sir!"

"Jesus Christ!  Why isn't the medication working!?"

He's going to die.  He's going to die before he gets to the hospital.  Heero stared at Duo's closed eyes, his head bobbing from side to side from the vehicle's quick turns and the bumps they encountered on the road.  His body was strapped down for his own safety but it didn't help the medics any as they tried to stop the bleeding that oozed out without fail.  The white sheets on the bottom of the nearly dead form were soaked with crimson and the pale flesh of the dying man was splattered in garnet.  Each passing moment, Heero kept noticing the contrast from Duo's skin to the blood he had underneath it all, which bubbled to the surface.  So dark and ugly, while his skin continued to get white, whiter than snow.  His lips were colorless, dry, broken to the part they were turning blue with the bruises that surrounded the sunken mouth.  His hair was loose, torn up into nothing but clumps by the dry blood that had soaked the chestnut strands.  Near his skull, next to all the needlepoints across his forehead, was a long and deep wound where his hair began.  Except the hair that accompanied that position on his head was gone, pulled out and left behind on the floor where Quatre had dropped them.  Heero was sickened by the mere glance, not even able to imagine the strength of the being who that could grab a chunk of hair and literally rip it out.  Nor could he imagine the horror Duo went through when he saw those limp brown strands in the monster's grip, licked with his very own blood, and no longer attached to the loyal part of his skull.

At least, Heero hoped it was a person.  The perfect boy would never be able to stand up to the thought that Duo would do this to himself.  It was simply impossible if he could.  How could he…could he…stake himself to the wall?

Better yet…what had hit Heero?  The door was closed and all of a sudden, there was this large, blinding light.  Funny…it was beautiful but so strong.  So hot, the warmth burning up his very blood yet comforting in the oddest way.  The power of the light was like something from a beam cannon.  He couldn't feel the ground beneath his feet.  He couldn't feel anything; just floating, weightless…until he the hit the wall and saw nothing.

Everything was so…unanswered for.  Duo, being staked to the wall.  A wall that burned the mark of a cross in Duo's blood, as soon as they removed the ex-pilot from the room barrier, and to see it rest where Duo's body once was.  Quatre, who screamed until his voice gave out on him, and that horrible ringing that followed soon after.  The aftermath of Quatre's own horror, that still hummed in Heero's ears, still ran deep into his blood.  Wufei went berserk, running around the room in outmost fury, throwing everything aside to find the murderer, to kill him with his very own hands, to find the man who could have done this.  He ripped off the doors to the closet, threw every shred of clothing out onto the floor, flipped the bed over; screamed for the coward to come out that was no where to be found.  And then just collapse in the middle of the room and place a hand over his eyes, silently shedding tears inwardly with a shaky palm his only sign of weakness.  Trowa had ran out of the room, blood slipping down his hand the whole way from the wound in his shoulder, and down the stairs to call the ambulance.  But, mostly, he did it to get out of the suffocating room. Quatre had hidden himself in a corner, hands over his face but eyes dry.  And Heero, who had just stood there in his heavy awareness, staring at his secret crush, his hidden desire as he slowly slipped away from them.  Just standing there, watching the red pool grow and grow under his first love till there couldn't possibility be anything left.  He only moved when he could hear the sirens screeching down the neighborhood and Trowa appeared again with a hasty shirt wrapped around his shoulder.  Heero moved to Duo and slowly took out the first stake trapping his hand and watching it fall immediately to his side without a sound.  Heero had stared at that abused hand, the nails nothing but red and the bandage almost black as it was ripped open to accept the stake that ran through the wrist once more.  Heero had taken that hand, held it so tight that the red digits actually began to change to another color.  He had hoped to feel Duo squeeze back.

He didn't.

"We're almost there, sir!"

"Faster!  We're losing him!"

"You kids have a lot to answer for!"

Heero said nothing, continuing to stare at that lifeless, beautiful face.  He didn't even react as the beep ran loud and long nor when Quatre shed his first tears.

*****

Someone was crying.  Duo wondered who it was.  It sounded like a little girl.  Duo opened his eyes, seeing nothing but a dark white.  He blinked at the sheet covering him, eyelashes being dragged against the fabric.  He wondered, for a moment, where he was.  Back in bed perhaps-?

…Bed…

Duo squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily against the suffocating sheet.  He finally came.  He finally came for me, Duo thought.  He didn't want to stay at the house; he knew the anger would get him.  He knew that something horrible would nearly kill him.  And so it happened.  When he was alone…and only because he could see him…he came.  Came after him.  Came to wreck his revenge…to the living.

"God…" The little girl whispered as Duo cried silently himself.  "Why…?  Why punish good people?"

Duo tilted his head towards the girl's voice, tears trekking down his cheeks.  Who was this, with him?

"I don't want to die, God," the girl sobbed quietly.  "Why don't You answer me?"

Because God isn't real, Duo thought bitterly, cupping a hand to his cheek and wiping away the tears there.  The girl continued to cry, only harder.

"Have You forgotten us?"

He hates us.  He wants us to suffer.

"Why do You condemn us?"

Because we are toys…things he likes to break every day.

"Where are You, God?"

Nowhere.  Everywhere.  In my wounds.  In my head.

"Please…save me…"

He won't.  He won't, he won't, he won't, hewon'thewon'thewon'the-.

_~He will.~_

Duo gasped and arched his head, suffocating under the white sheet.  He tried to lift his hand to tear down the bed sheet, when suddenly desperate cold fingers curled around his wrist.  He tried to cry out, but as soon as his lips parted, it felt like he had sucked in the winter wind.  It squeezed his lungs shut, froze over his vocal chords.  All he could do was cough desperately for air, screaming inside his head for someone to just hear him, to save him.

_~He will always hear you.~_

No!  Not you again!

_~You still don't believe, Duo?~_

I can't breathe! I can't breathe! Oh, God!

_~You call out for something you don't believe in?~_

Stop it!  Get out of my head!  Please!  Please!

_~He's always in your head.  We're always here, Duo.  Even if you can't hear or see us.~_

I…can't…breathe…can't…brrree…athe…

_~But that's going to change now.~_

…can't…

_~You'll always see us now, Duo.  You'll always hear us, now.~_

…breathe…

_~We're waiting, Duo!  Come back home.~_

*****

"We did an extensive body search at Mr. Winner's request," the doctor spoke softly to the four young teenagers.  "I'm sorry for your loss." 

The young students didn't look up from staring at the floor.

"Uh, before I tell you what has happened to your friend," the doctor continued, uncomfortable with the blank stares that looked off impassively at the world, "a police officer would like to ask you a few questions."

"We'll file a full report tomorrow," Heero replied, his voice lax of true emotion.  "We're Preventers." A soft sigh.

"As much as this is comforting, sir," the doctor rambled.  "I'm afraid its mandatory."

"Whatever then," the short-haired boy replied and fell back into the waiting chair, his arms heavy at his sides.  None of them glanced up as the officer took a stance in front of them.

"I'm sure you are all in shock at the moment," the officer said, "but questions must be asked while everything is still clear.  Now-."

"He didn't believe in God," Quatre spoke up, hugging himself from his tight, upright position.  "We didn't listen to him."

"What did he say?" The detective asked, opening his note pad and taking out a pencil from his pocket. 

"Something bad was in the house," Quatre whispered, eyes narrowing at the tiled floors.

"What bad thing?" The older man asked.  "A person?"

"I couldn't see it," the boy answered.  "A bad thing."

"Mmm, hmm," the officer said, jotting something down.  "And what did this…thing…do?"

Finally, Quatre's mask broke and he shook his head slowly, eyes closing to hold back the tears and eyebrows falling desperately to help.  His spine seemed to have broke and he fell apart, closing in on himself, falling close to his knees.

"I can't…" Quatre choked out, mouth flattened and spread in torment.

"What happened?" the officer demanded, more intrigued by the way the boy broke down then the agony he felt inside.

"Don't make me say it…" Quatre whispered, biting his lower lip tight and hard.

"What did it do?"

Quatre's voice trembled as he tried to find the words to answer the question when a doctor ran by, talking quickly with a nurse beside him.

"What do you mean, the body disappeared!?"

"Not disappear, sir!  He's alive!"

The officer stared down the hall at the hurriedly talking couple, Heero burning a stare right along with him.

"Excuse me," the officer said a moment later and shut his note pad, quickly following the two hurried attendants.  Moments passed in complete silence, besides Quatre's quiet sobs that he took a while to get under control again.  The hall they were in was empty, besides the shuffle of a patient or a surgeon passing by or the uncomfortable shift of the four friends.

Then suddenly, there was hell.

"Get back!  Get back!"

"This isn't possible!"

"Stay right where you are, sir!"

"Can't you see them…?"

Four heads jerked up at the last voice and turned to look down at the once empty hall.  Doctors and nurses were running out of the way as the police officer that was just questioning the ex-pilots pulled out his gun and pointed it at a long-haired patient.

"Duo!?"

The patient was walking very slowly forward, seeming to dismiss the gun pointed at his chest completely.  Instead he was looking around wildly, staring at everything and nothing at the same time – as if he didn't know where he was.

"Duo!"

The boys rushed up together and started moving forward when the officer turned his head and waved them away.

"Stay back!" He ordered. "I don't know what kind of sick joke this is, but all of you are in deep trouble!"

"Can you see them?" Duo asked, voice choking this time as small tears appeared at the bottom of his eyes.  Everyone's attention returned to Duo, a scared and mumbling patient in a hospital uniform.  He glanced beyond the detective and at his friends, eyebrows curled desperately up. Then he was looking from side to side, staring with fixated horror, his breath came in desperate pants, sucking and pushing out air as if he was going into shock.  It was quivering as well as his tears began to fall with each step that he took back.

"I can see all of them now!" Duo screamed, hands trembling up to grasp onto his hospital uniform.  He was sniffling, crying, panicking, panting.  He was stumbling, screaming, staring at things that weren't there.  He was losing his mind.

"No…" He sobbed desperately, a futile prayer, maybe even hoping that he has lost it.

"Duo, its okay," Wufei pleaded, stepping forward.

"Stay back!" The officer ordered furiously, cocking the gun in warning.

"Shut the fuck up!" Heero growled back and stepped up to the officer, ripping the gun angrily from the older man's hand.  He was in the detective's face, ordering him to stand down as he threw the gun aside.

"What do you think you're doing!?" The officer screamed.  Quatre rushed past to Duo before he got too far away.  Heero fisted the black uniform and brought the man dangerously close, his fury apparent.

"I over rank you," Heero spat.  "I said stand down or you'll be begging that I killed you when Lady Une hears about this."

The man visibly paled and Heero scuffed, pushing the officer away from him.  He found Duo huddled in a hospital chair, covering his eyes and keeping them there, even against Quatre's persistent tugs.  He kept shaking his head, his breath coming in hallow, trembling intakes.

"Don't make me see them anymore, Quatre…" the long-haired teenager whispered.  "Please…"

"Duo…there's no one here…" Quatre tried to reassure and Duo tossed his head to and fro to shake off his friend's hands.

"They're there!  They're always there!" Duo screamed, his voice cracking as he tried to get them to understand.  He stilled for a moment and just before Quatre touched him again, he revolted side-ways like he was ducking a bullet.  He fell from the chair, hands flying from his eyes to catch his fall.

"No! No!  I can't help you!  Leave me alone!  Leave me alone!"

"Duo!  It's just us!"

"And them! Them, them, them, them, them, them, them-!"

Heero roughly picked Duo up by his hands.  The hysterical boy cried out, fighting weakly but only in reaction.  Then he slumped against Heero completely, his eyes dry but his heavy breathing tickling Heero's neck.  The ex-soldier clutched onto the thin, bleeding wrists before jerking his hands away in afterthought and cupping his arms around the abused and shaking form.  He let his head roll forward, pressing his forehead against the bony shoulder that rose and fell with every desperate breath.

"I…we…thought you were dead…" he whispered, holding his love desperately as sudden, choking emotion rushed forward and into his veins, into his heart.  Suddenly, he also couldn't catch his breath.  He was scared, relieved, and heart broken all at the same time.  He was everything at once and the only thing keeping him from crumbling was the form he held, the body that would also fall if he didn't hold onto Heero.  Two pillars supporting the other desperately, their strength gone as time stretched by.

"My mind won't let me die," Duo whispered, his chest suddenly convulsing as he gave into the coughs breaking apart his consciousness.  "And I won't know why…until I go home…"


End file.
